


After the Stretch

by DRiver2U



Series: Sliding into Home [4]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Angst, Baseball, Discussion of Rape, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Katie & Mateo - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Pilots, Sex, Veronica Mars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 20:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRiver2U/pseuds/DRiver2U
Summary: Veronica is back in California after visiting Mac in London. She learns if it is possible to juggle the men who love her and if she will ever be able to escape her past. There is angst, romance, a little sex, fluff, and baseball. Also, there is discussion of Veronica's rape as a teenager. This part of the story is told in 2 chapters.





	1. Top of the Inning

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 4 of the "Sliding into Home" baseball series. It picks up right after the third part in the series. There's baseball, fluff, angst, a little sex/smut, and discussion of previous rape. Settings and people change throughout the work.
> 
> There is some angst because I'm not sure how Veronica and Logan exist without angst. 
> 
> Non-canon. All characters belong to RT. All mistakes are mine. There may be dialogue similar to that found in the series or movie. It is intentional and written as an homage to the great writing found in the show. Also, the description of Veronica's personality is based on an interview from Rob Thomas. 
> 
> If you haven't read the first 3 parts in the series, you may not understand who the non-canon characters (Katie and Mateo) are. Mac makes appearances in the story, and Keith, Dick, Carrie, Casey, and Madison are mentioned.
> 
> I've broken this part up into 2 chapters because it quite long.

Veronica lounges in bed until 10:00, a guilty pleasure she rarely indulges. The list of things she needs to do to ready herself for the trip to Lemoore and the weekend of baseball sit in her mind but aren't enough to drag her from the comfort of her bed. Despite the shower she had last night, she still smells the cabin odor from the airplane and suspects it's coming from her open travel bag sitting in the corner. She rolls over and runs her arm around the other side of the bed, but there is no lingering connection to Logan. All traces of him have vanished during the night. 

The summer has taken a toll on her. The stress of the bar exam, the emotions of a rekindled love affair, and the newfound concerns about a job and career make her want to soak up the last remaining moments of calm in the oasis of her bedroom. The mental list of tasks she must accomplish creeps to the front of her brain, and she draws back the covers taking in the morning sunshine. The best thing that will happen today, she knows already without a single doubt in her mind, will be the baseball game in Modesto. Seeing Mateo in person will fuel her day. He's as dependable as the weekly baseball stats he sends each week to her email address. 

If she is honest with herself, and it seems like that happens less and less, she isn't looking forward to driving to Lemoore tomorrow afternoon. The actual time spent in the car isn't unappealing. She's driven much farther for baseball games, but the thought of invading someone else's life, entering his world and having no grounding for two days is frightening. She complains about the routine of her life in Palo Alto, but the stability has kept her from falling time and again. She has forgone antidepressants, anxiety meds, and holistic treatments in favor of clinging to the reliability of the university world around her. The thought that she may be leaving that environment for the first time in several years should be seen as an adventure, but that unexplored world is more terrifying than she admits to even herself. She has forgotten what it feels like to be afraid, afraid of the future. This is the start of a life without tests, research papers, and teacher-induced deadlines. It is the beginning of her new life. 

**********

To: VMars1@stanford.edu  
From: Police.Chief.Keith.Mars@aol.com  
Re: Re: Update

Dear Favorite Daughter, 

How wonderful to come back from our camping trip to find your email. It certainly beats the two weeks worth of paperwork sitting on my desk. I guess that's job security. I've read your email several times thinking about how to reply. I'm not as good of a writer as my big shot (almost) lawyer daughter, but I'll give it a try. 

First, I love you, Veronica. I've been a terrible father if you feel like we don't love each other. Just because we went different directions doesn't mean all we had before you went to Stanford just disappeared. We were a good team, but like most teams, the roster changes over the years. We trade up and down and we find how to make each team work, but we have always been the superstars on Team Mars, even if we're in different divisions now. 

It was time for both of us to leave Neptune when we did. I think I knew you wouldn't follow me to Nebraska, and I didn't want you to. Your dream was to go to Stanford. My dream was to get back to work. The job has been good for me. I take pride in being in law enforcement. It's who I am. There's respect in this job that I didn't get at Mars Investigations. And when I met Carol, that just kind of sealed the deal that I'd be staying. 

I know you and Carol don't see life the same way, and that's OK. It makes things a little more complicated for me to balance both of my favorite gals, but I don't mind that. I'm not sure you've given Carol a fair shot, but then I have to agree with what I know would be your immediate reply to that statement that she hasn't given you one either. As you know, she takes her faith very seriously. There isn't a lot of ambiguity or flexibility in her moral compass. That can be both good and bad. 

Religion was certainly not a part of our lives in California, but it's important to her, so it has become part of my life, too. There's also a sense of community and "right" that comes from being in the church. She really isn't trying to judge you or your lifestyle, but she comes at decisions from a different point of view than what you grew up with. She's not wrong, and you're not wrong, but I understand how the two of you together can be difficult for all three of us. But together, she and I, we're pillars in the community. It's a good feeling to be respected in a town again. Her boys are great, and I love having the little kids around. They keep me young. It's fun teaching them to fish and camp. 

Maybe I've been too distant from you, but I thought you felt better keeping your space. I suppose I told myself you wanted that, but I also know it was easier for me to avoid arguments if we were a little less coiled together. If you want to set up a weekly call like I have with Cliff, we could do that. It might be better to schedule it when I'm at work, so let me know if there's a day and time that will work for you. 

Thanks for the update on Mateo. I'll try to have one of the boys help me find the games online. It's good to hear he's doing so well. 

Love,  
Your Favorite Dad

**********

Veronica's missed this. The sounds of the stadium coming to life. The smell of the grills firing up. The anticipation of knowing if the square on the chart at the box office window aligns with the actual seat in the stands. The cordial greetings from the ushers. The expected inefficiency of the snack stands. The gentle, but still noticeable, leers from the beer vendors. The high fives when someone passes wearing the same shirt. The slight difference in temperature between the general admission metal bleacher seats and the individual box seats closer to the watered grass. 

It's been too long. Too long since she's seen Mateo. Too long since she's watched him play. She makes her way to the front row of the box seats and looks for his familiar body on the field and in the bullpen, but she doesn't see the lanky figure camouflaged by protective gear. She's used to seeing him sprint onto the field, first one on, last one off. To her left, a figure pulls himself up the stairs of the dugout, and he's standing in front of her.

"Ma."

"Matt-y-o. Let me rub your head," Veronica says as she reaches out to pat his hair. 

"Shit. I've missed you. 'Bout time you're at one of my games." 

"I was thinking the same thing," Veronica says as she eyes him closely. "You doing OK? Playing tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah. All good," Mateo responds. He turns to look at the field and cups his helmet onto his head. "I need to get moving."

"Of course. I'll see you after the game. At the car." 

"Looking forward to it." 

Veronica can't remember the last time she saw Mateo look so exhausted. His hair is longer and the always-fighting-for-a-presence stubble is a full-on beard. He looks old. And tired. And thin. She chides herself for going on vacation and not worrying about him. Now look at him. He's not the same as he was at the start of the season and she wonders if Katie loves him enough to have noticed the changes. 

Veronica starts her routine of walking the stadium. She doesn't remember being in Modesto before and the stadium is new to her. She has to admit she likes the nickname The Nuts far more than Rawhide. It's not an overwhelming stadium. In fact, it doesn't feel much larger than the Stanford field. She makes her way to the food area, and feels sorry for the two people required to spend their evening in what must be horrific smelling mascot costumes. 

She purchases her water and program and heads back to her seat. Although she usually avoids watching the lead-up to the start of the game, she's anxious to have another look at Mateo. She stares at him standing in line during the national anthem before he takes his seat in the dugout waiting for his turn. He's moved up the roster of hitters. He's batting third tonight, unusual for a catcher. Veronica turns her focus to the game, waits to be entertained, and rereads Keith's email for the 9th time. 

**********

"Ma, hold on," Mateo says as he jogs to catch her before Veronica leaves the stands. Mat sticks his head into the dugout and is soon joined by a tall, blonde man not much older than Veronica wearing a similar uniform to Mat. "This is Coach. Coach, this is my ma. She's hosting the party on Sunday after the game." 

"Veronica Mars," she says as she holds her hand out to greet him. "Very nice to meet you. What happened to the old, fat, bald coaches of days of yore?" 

"Nice to meet you, too. Jacob. Jacob Miller. I could ask the same of mothers," he laughs. "Are you sure you're up to a house full of these goons?"

"I think I can handle a few guys at dinner for one night," Veronica says as she chuckles. "Actually, I'm looking forward to getting to know everyone. Thanks for allowing it to happen. I know it's easier just to get everyone on the bus and head south."

"They could all use a touch of home at this point. Hell, even the coaches could." 

"Home we can and shall provide. I'll see you Sunday."

"Thanks again."

Veronica turns her head to Mateo. "Good game. What's up with you?" 

"What'd you mean?"

"How are you holding it together? You look exhausted." 

"I am, but I've got a job to do, so I'm doing it. See you in a bit," he says and turns into the dugout. Veronica takes her seat again and watches as the ground crew makes their way onto the field, grateful for another memorable night at the ballpark. 

**********

Veronica's head is back and her eyes are closed when she hears the back door of the SUV open. The familiar thud of a duffle bag hits the seat, and the door closes. The front door swings open and Mateo slinks into the chair. He drops his head and closes his eyes. "We're going to be a fun party tonight," he says as he turns to look at Veronica, her eyes still closed. 

"Jet lag. What's your excuse?"

"Baseball." 

"That it?"

"Yep." 

"Where to?"

"There's a 24-hour place. I could go for some eggs." 

"Great. You direct." 

Mateo pulls his seatbelt on and maps the direction to the restaurant. "Don't deluge me with questions until we get there." 

"I'll try to ask questions that serve only the purpose of us finding the restaurant," replies Veronica.

Radiohead drifts through the car speakers as Mateo directs them from the stadium to the diner. The streets of Modesto on a Monday evening are as vacant as the line for a table at the diner. Mateo orders a 3-egg omelet, pancakes, cottage cheese, and milk. Veronica orders a cup of soup. 

"Milk. A large glass of milk. What's going on Mat?"

She watches him sip his water. "I don't know. Stress probably. Or too many steaks too late at night. Beer's the worst. Kills my stomach." 

"How long's this been going on?"

"A week or two."

"What's Katie say?"

"There's nothing to say. My stomach hurts. Next week my knees will hurt. You're making too much of this."

"You don't think she's noticed?"

"She's noticed I'm not drinking beer."

"I'm sure she's noticed the beard."

"Yeah, what do you think?"

"Hate it. Makes you look old."

"I'm too fucking lazy to shave." 

"You're never lazy. Do I need to worry?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"So, how is your perfect Katie?" Veronica asks trying not to sound sarcastic.

"Not quite perfect. Turns out she wants to get married," Mateo answers.

"What?" Veronica stops just before picking up her glass. Water runs over the tumbler and she uses her napkin to soak up the liquid.

"Not now. And maybe not even to me, but she told me she wants to get married. I mean, like, in general. She wants kids with a husband. Like, who wants to get married in this day and age?"

"Oh. OK," Veronica says as she collects her thoughts. "Lots of people get married, Mat. You know that. Half of the American population is married. Wasn't there a guy with the Cougars last year who was married?"

"Yeah, but he was some kind of religious guy who wouldn't have sex without being married. That kind of makes sense. I mean, if the choice is to have your head blow off from no sex or getting hitched, yeah, I'd probably choose marriage. But Katie's not like that. She just wants to be married."

"Well, maybe you don't need to worry about this just yet," suggests Veronica. 

"I know, but I said I'd never get married." 

"To be naive enough to believe in never," Veronica says. "How's the living arrangement?"

"Awesome. She's so great. When do I find out the bad shit? 'Cause so far she doesn't do anything to annoy me. And everyone annoys me."

"Ah, young love. I wish I could say I remember those days fondly." 

"Maybe you'll have better luck in your next life," Mateo jokes and begins polishing his utensils with his napkin before lining the knife and spoon up on the right side of the placemat and the fork to the left. He places the paper napkin on his right thigh and runs his hands over it to decrease the wrinkles. 

"Keep your fingers crossed for a steamy reincarnation. Hey, weren't you supposed to meet with that journalist today? How'd that go?"

"No big deal. Took some pictures. Asked me a few inane questions. Talked mainly to coach about me. I'm guessing I'm not going to be the star of the article. It was hard to tell if she really even knows anything about minor league baseball."

"Let's hope she took a picture of you with your mask on. If you're going to be immortalized in _Sports Illustrated_ , I hate to think it's with that shit on your face."

The waitress delivers their food to the table, and Mateo digs in as quickly as he does with any meal Veronica's seen him eat. "How was London?" he asks.

"I think I've told you most of it. Of course, Mac sends her love. You should message her more often. She'd love to hear from you."

"Yeah, OK. I'll get right on that, talking to _your_ friend. I have enough trouble keeping up with _my_ friends." Mateo places the fork and knife on the sides of his plate while he takes a long drink of milk. Veronica has always thought it a bit strange that he eats like his European mother with a fork in his left hand and the knife in his right. The small habits he picked up from his parents show through once in awhile, like the way he crosses his sevens, same as his father. She wonders what mannerisms he's incorporated from her presence. As he grabs his utensils again, he asks, "Where'd you put the cricket bat?"

"Your room. I didn't think you'd want to store it at Katie's." 

"Yeah, I've got about two drawers and a box there. Talk about living a minimal lifestyle."

Veronica's cream of broccoli soup is so thick that when she drops the spoon into it, it takes several seconds for the handle to hit the edge of the cup. "There's one thing about my trip I didn't tell you."

"Only one? Then I can tell you that your trip was officially boring."

"I met this guy while I was there." Veronica looks at Mateo, but he doesn't bother looking up from his pancakes. "Do you remember Logan mentioned that I was a private investigator before I went to Stanford?"

"Yeah." 

"Well, this guy is a PI. Consultant, I guess he prefers. And he made me want to get back into the business."

"Why?"

"I miss the excitement of putting together the puzzle. There's certainly a lot of downtime that isn't exciting, but I'd like to try it again." 

"How would you do that?"

"I guess I'd have to advertise that my services are available. Make some connections. I'll need to get another job to pay the bills while I'm seeing if I could do this again."

"What kind of job?"

"I've been emailing the department chair today. They need someone part-time."

"Chair of what?"

"Oh, sorry. Law. At Stanford. And I could teach a class on Tuesday and Thursday mornings." 

"So no lawyering?"

"Is that what it's called? Lawyering?"

"Whatever."

"Not for now. What do you think?"

"Yeah, cool. Fine. You should do what you want," Mateo says as he pours more syrup on the last of his pancakes. "Do something that might make you happy or excited. That's what I'm doing. Why wouldn't I be cool with that?"

"Because it's not what my classmates will be doing. And I won't be making lots of money."

"Again, why would I care about that? See this fucking life I'm leading. Not what my classmates are doing and absolutely no fucking money."

"OK. Well, that went easier than I thought it might. Since you appear to be so amenable tonight, how about we skip to the next item on my agenda."

"You've got an agenda for tonight's meal. That's a new one. Trying to organize yourself?" Mateo asks as he stacks his plates and pushes them to the side of the table. 

"Maybe your stomach problems have to do with how quickly you inhale food. Try slowing it down a bit," Veronica suggests.

"I've been doing that for years, so I'm not sure that would suddenly be the reason why my stomach hurts. Next hypothesis." 

"I don't know where you get your sarcasm from?"

"No, I can't imagine. Who could have possibly been the influencer for the last 7 years of my life?" Mateo snarks and smirks at her. 

"I don't think I'm quite as dry and sarcastic as you, am I?"

"Tell yourself what you need to believe, ma."

"Hey, do you remember when we had dinner with Katie and Logan in Visalia?"

"That's when I met my girlfriend. Pretty hard for me to forget something like that." 

"Well, I've been in touch with Logan since then," Veronica takes another spoonful of her now-nearly cold soup. She chokes it down and then pushes it away. "More than I've let on."

"OK." 

"And we've decided we're going to be seeing more of each other."

"I'm not following. How're you going to do that?" Mateo asks as he stares at Veronica. "He lives in Lemoore."

"Right. He does. And I'll try to visit him there and he'll drive north sometimes," Veronica says avoiding any mention of Logan having already been at Mateo's home. 

"So, like date him."

"Right. Yes. Just like that. Yes," Veronica replies looking down at her lap.

Mateo motions to the waitress and she makes her way to their table. "Anything else I can get for you?" 

"Just the check, please," Mateo requests. "Thanks." 

"No reaction?"

"What do you want me to say? That I think it's wonderful. It's a good idea. I don't know the guy. I didn't have a great feeling about him at that dinner, but who I am to judge? You can do whatever, whoever you want." 

"I'm not sure I believe you that you're fine with this. Your words aren't matching your tone."

"I've known you years. The only person I've seen you date, actually date, was my dad. So I'd like to believe you've been waiting for someone special to come along. I don't know. I just didn't get the vibe he's a good guy. But you know him, not me." The waitress returns with their bill, and Mateo digs out his wallet. He puts down cash to cover the cost of the meal and the tip. 

Veronica sighs. "I like to think he is."

"I haven't bothered to Google him."

"Why's that?"

"You know I don't give a fuck about someone's past or about gossip or any of that shit. But I care about you. And if he hurts you, I'm not going to be happy."

"I doubt that'd make me too happy, either. And put your money away, Mat. I always pay." 

"I've got it," he says as he moves out of the booth. "Can you drop me at the hotel? It's not far."

"Of course. I was planning to do that," she answers as she grabs her purse, scrambles off the bench, and follows Mateo to the car. "I won't stop seeing him because you don't like him."

"You shouldn't. You should do what you want," Mateo says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls antacids onto his fingers. He pops them in his mouth and crunches them. Mateo points up the street and says, "See. Just a couple of blocks. I can walk if you want to take off. Get back home. I know you're tired."

"It's two blocks, Mat. I think I can handle that." 

They buckle themselves into the car and Veronica drives them to the hotel in silence. When they reach the parking lot, Mateo jumps from the vehicle. "Thanks for coming to the game and for going out to dinner. And for the ride." He closes the door and pops open the back before grabbing his duffle. "See you Friday," he says as the door closes. 

"Of course. See you, Mat," Veronica says to the air inside the car. She hesitates trying to decipher what's wrong, what's missing from their interaction. It clicks. She can't remember the last time they ended a conversation without acknowledging their love for each other.

**********

Veronica types on her laptop keyboard. She plugs her computer in electronically and her brain in with caffeine. Her 30 oz. iced black tea sits to the right of her computer. The beauty, the comfort of Starbucks is knowing that there will be consistency in the order and in the atmosphere. Her high table is the closest to the pick-up area near the back of the store. Several people have used the extra chair at her table while they wait for their afternoon Frappuccinos. 

Since she has been waiting and drinking, the late afternoon has turned into early evening, and the patrons are dressed less in business attire and uniforms and more in yoga pants and shorts. She admits to herself that she's nervous about invading the town where Logan lives and works. She passes the time by messaging Mac and sending emails about her perspective job opportunities. 

When Logan walks up beside her, someone about Mateo's age is sitting on the chair opposite her waiting for his drink. Logan gives the guy a slight nod before bending down to kiss the top of Veronica's head. The opposite chair suddenly becomes vacant and Logan sits across from her. "Sorry I'm late."

"No problem," Veronica says. "I was sucked into a Reddit AMA with a murderer who was released from prison, moved to Taiwan, and is now the foremost transgender cult leader in Asia." She closes her laptop and begins the process of unplugging and wrapping the cord. 

Logan can't tell how much if any of that tale is truthful, and he's afraid to ask. It's outlandish enough to be one of the threads on Reddit, but he doesn't picture his girlfriend spending her time in Nerdville. He doesn't respond and instead just smiles taking in the deliciousness of her face mixed with the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. He's relieved his betting days are behind him because he would have lost thousands, 90% certain she would find an excuse not to appear at their appointed rendezvous point. "I thought we'd go out tonight. Get dinner somewhere nice. Have a date. A proper date, like we talked about. Like a real couple." 

"And what is a nice place in Lemoore? Do I get to choose between Red Lobster and Applebee's?"

"Oh, you've gone highbrow on me. Neither is an option in Lemoore, I'm afraid. If your heart is set on one of those fine establishments, we'll have to travel. I was thinking more along the lines of Taco Bell."

"Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid you were going to suggest the Jack in the Box or Popeyes I passed on the way here."

"Since when did you become a snob, a food snob, no less?" Logan jokes as he stands and Veronica pushes her computer and cord into her bag. They both step away from the table, and it is immediately occupied by two teenagers sucking strawberry drinks through green straws. 

"Since I wound up in the middle of nowhere trying to outrun the country music that seems to be following me around this town."

"Oh, so it's both food and music in which you are the expert," Logan laughs, his hand on her back as they walk towards the door. "Let's go home first. You OK following me?"

"Sure. As long as you don't lead me astray."

"Would I do that?" Logan asks and bends down to kiss her as holds the door open for her. 

"Too many times to count." 

"I believe you're thinking about the times you led me astray."

"Whatever you need to get you through the night," Veronica jokes and feels less nervous as they banter. 

"I'm hoping you're going to get me through this night." 

"Get in your car, lieutenant. I think I know how to tail someone." 

**********

"Your condo is really nice, Logan," Veronica says as she looks around the living area. "White. Really nice and really white. I like the lack of framed movie posters. That's a nice touch."

Veronica thinks back to her time in London and how at ease she felt at Mac's home. The opposite is happening at Logan's condo. The nervous energy she had most of the afternoon is back. She's not sure where to stand or if she should sit or what she should say. She thinks she's better off standing, afraid she might shake her leg if left to sit on the couch. 

"You want a tour?" Logan asks as he watches her death-grip her duffle.

"Sure."

"Living room," Logan says as he waves his arms around him. "In case you couldn't tell by appearance of the couch and television." He leads the way into the kitchen area, defined only by the L-shaped counter separating it from the living room. "Can you guess what this is?"

"I hate to assume, but I'm thinking that the refrigerator indicates it's the billiards room. Am I right?"

"I can see why you want to get back into detective work. You're never stumped." He leads her down a short hallway and points with his right hand. "Second bedroom. You won't be needing that. And guest bathroom across the hall. Garage is through that door at the end." 

"Nice. What do you do with all this stuff when you leave?"

"Leave? Like, deployed?"

"Yeah."

"Storage."

"Right. Makes sense. You must get used to packing and unpacking and living in different places." 

"I don't know if 'used to' is the right phrase, but it's not unusual to be coming or going or packing or unpacking." 

"Right. Right." 

"You OK, Veronica?"

"Just taking it all in. Seeing you in your natural habitat for the first time in a long time." 

Logan can still read Veronica, maybe not like he could years ago. Maybe anyone could see her discomfort. He doesn't need to be her ex-, well, current boyfriend to sense her signals. He fears he has one chance to make her feel welcome, to make her feel like she belongs here in his life. His need to impress her is now lessened by his need to make her feel comfortable. He reminds himself to step up his game. He has one night to make her want to stay. He changes his plans, hoping it's the correct decision.

"I was thinking." He pauses and when she doesn't immediately hit his softball out of the park, he knows he's right about her nervous energy. "Maybe we should wait to have dinner and go for a quick run instead." 

Veronica's face lights up. "God, that'd be great. I'm out of shape, though. I didn't run at all in London or since I've been back. You'll have to go easy on me." 

"You've got your shoes?"

"I do. That would be really great. You don't mind waiting to eat?"

She's set him up for such a swift comeback, but he can't make himself take advantage of her uneasiness. "Give me your bag. I'll show you the bedroom. We can change."

**********

"I don't have much food in the house."

"Why? Convinced I wouldn't actually show?" asks Veronica as she walks into the kitchen area.

"I should have gone shopping last night, but I was planning to take you out on the town. I'm beginning to doubt we'll ever have an actual date. Like out in public. Not in running gear. Sure you don't want to call for Chinese?" Logan asks. 

"It's too late. What's in the fridge?" Veronica asks, leaning against the sink, her right foot resting on her left knee in half of a yoga tree pose. Logan's faded 'Save a Wave, Ride a Surfer' shirt hangs almost to the bottom of her shorts. 

"Baby carrots," Logan says as he tosses items onto the counter. "Swiss cheese, deli ham, wilted lettuce, onions, eggs, that's about it." 

"See what happens when you have to work for a living? You don't have time to grocery shop. I could go for you tomorrow. Make me a list. That would give me something to do."

"You're not my hired help. You're my girlfriend." 

"As your girlfriend, I'm here to please."

"I believe you just did that in the shower," he suggests as he wiggles his eyebrows at her from around the fridge door. 

"I'm not sure that pleasuring you is the same as pleasing you."

"In this case, I am certain it is."

"Well, if you're certain, who am I to argue?"

"Any of this get you excited?" Logan asks as he looks at the food on the counter and closes the refrigerator door. 

"You mean the food, not you standing half naked in front of me. 'Cause, I'll admit, that does get me a little excited." 

Logan takes two steps towards her and she rotates her foot from her knee and wraps it around his leg. He bends down and drinks in the smell of his shampoo and her conditioner emanating from her wet hair. "I like a woman who's insatiable," he breathes into her ear and presses in for a lingering kiss. 

"Just any insatiable woman?" Veronica asks when they drift apart, her eyes still closed.

"Yep. Any old one will do," he quips and backs away. 

"Good thing I'm old or I'd be out of luck."

Logan steps back and looks at the food on the counter. "You like to solve puzzles. See any options in this mess?" 

"Grilled ham and cheese with a side of salad." 

"Nicely played, Ina Garten." 

"Wow. You're on a real-name basis with the Barefoot Contessa. I'm impressed. You must be a top supporter of PBS."

"Like I'm classy enough for PBS. Food Network for me. You know, Casey Gant hosts one of the shows on that channel, right?" Logan says as he pulls a loaf of wheat bread from the refrigerator. 

Veronica begins washing lettuce leaves and opens draws until she finds a peeler and a knife. "Get the fuck out. I don't know what's more surprising, that he's on TV or that he cooks."

"No fucking way he cooks," he says as he turns the stovetop on and warms the frying pan for the sandwiches. 

"I'm starting to have anxiety that my former classmates are outshining me. Does everyone fly 50 billion dollar jets, star on TV shows, own a vineyard in Ojai, and become a break-out pop star?" Veronica shakes water from her hands and looks around. "Couple of bowls for the salads?"

Logan pauses at the mention of Ojai, noting that it can't be a coincidence that Veronica references the town where Dick said Madison lives. He's glad he's facing the cupboard so she can't see the confusion on his face. "You have a law degree from Stanford. It's not like you're sitting around getting stoned on the beach every day." He hands her the requested bowls and turns back to the oven.

"Only the days with an 'r' in them." 

"Uh, full disclosure," Logan hesitates, "not to bring up uncomfortable things, but, speaking of that pop star, I dated Carrie for awhile." 

"Of course, you did. Didn't work out?"

"Doesn't appear that way."

"My condolences."

"You win some, you lose some. I happen to think I actually won that one by having the good sense to get out as soon as I did."

"Oh, I get it now. Get this," Veronica says motioning her hands between them. "You've literally worked your way through all of our 09'er classmates and you've decided to take a second trek to the wrong side of the tracks. I bet attending our high school reunions are a nightmare for you. Are there just a bunch of women crying and holding the now-faded roses you gave them?" 

" _The Bachelor_ producers said they couldn't accept my application because I was too high of an insurance risk," he jokes as he plates their sandwiches. He motions for them to take seats at the counter, pours them each a glass of water, and sits down next to Veronica. 

"You could date outside the gene pool. Go beyond the pages of our yearbooks." 

"Tried that. You may recall me mentioning an ex-wife." 

"I do remember that. She seems to come up in almost all of our conversations," Veronica remarks. She drizzles poppy seed dressing on her almost-crisp lettuce and sucks up a drop that landed on her thumb. "Your track record is a bit shoddy. Next time, you might want to try a matchmaker. Or accept that maybe you're not really a relationship kind of guy."

"Next time? You've been here five hours and you're already suggesting replacements." 

"It's always good to keep options open," smirks Veronica. 

"As much fun as it is to hear you talk about leaving me, how 'bout you go a little easier?"

"We could, but, like you said, what fun is that?"

"I've been thinking."

"Please. You insult my abilities with a phrase like that."

"About getting a new car."

"You're current ride not sparkly enough for you? Doesn't show the world you are, in fact, a rich motherfucker?"

"Is that what it says about me?" Logan asks and wonders what his car does say about him. Most of the pilots drive some sort of sporty vehicle, even the guys with families leave the minivans to the wives. Katie's tame red Volkswagen has a turbo engine, and he's admired the spunk it has when she's allowed him to drive it. He admits that it's as fun as his BMW, but he can't imagine why she wouldn't own a convertible in California. 

"Well, we could discuss how flashy sports cars are a substitute for male, uh, inadequacy and inferiority, but I happen to know you don't have those issues," Veronica jokes. "So, what's the problem with the current ride? Do you miss the days of having a driver? Thinking that a Rolls Royce with a driver in a uniform and hat is the best way to make the scene."

"Maybe something a little more low key compared to that."

"We've had good luck with the Honda."

"Something between a Honda and a Rolls."

"I think that's what you have right now," states Veronica. 

"What about you? Something with a few less miles?"

"To quote the troubled but gifted Sinead O'Connor, 'I do not want what I haven't got'. Or better yet, The Rolling Stones. 'You can't always get what you want'." 

"Do you make all your financial decisions from old song lyrics?"

"It's cheaper than a broker. And neither is a bad philosophy. Actually, it's about the only philosophy since I haven't had a good-paying job in, well, forever. And I don't have a trust fund or inheritance. But you live it up, Richie Rich. Spend. Make others jealous. Keep the economy growing."

"Just something I'm thinking about," Logan says realizing his plans to buy Veronica a car are going to be as difficult as he expected. "Are you making plans for your tailgating party?"

"Pretty sure tailgating is prior to a football game. This is following a baseball game." 

"Football. Baseball. Whatever. They don't involve the ocean or a board." 

"I called the caterer and the bakery. And most importantly, I've rented a U-Haul for all the beer I have to pick up at Costco," Veronica pauses to take a drink of the Brita-filtered water. "No, I'm kidding. The Honda's got lots of cargo room for cases and cases _and cases_ of beer. How about you? Big plans for the weekend?"

"I'm going to Neptune. I owe Dick some surfing time." 

"Mm," Veronica murmurs and looks away from Logan. In that non-word, he knows he will never learn all her secrets. She will never let him in entirely and he has to accept what she's willing to give.

"I thought I'd go while you're otherwise engaged. Didn't think I could convince you to go with me." 

"What gives you that idea? Just because I mentioned I'd rather eat food from a dumpster than spend five minutes in that hellhole."

"I thought it was that you'd rather make out with a broken bottle."

Veronica smiles remembering the way their banter had congealed them together so long ago. "Recycling, Echolls. I might have to start worrying about your inability to come up with new ways to amuse me." 

"Don't we have something to talk about that would make you uncomfortable? I seem to be taking all the hits at the moment."

"Is it my fault if you're losing your touch? Maybe too many g-forces have impacted your quick wit. But, if you can't keep up, we'll slow down. It's no fun if both don't want to play." 

Logan understands that Veronica is joking, but he also knows she hints at something he fears. It will take more than good, great, fantastic sex to keep her engaged in their relationship. She won't drive 3 hours for sex. She probably won't even wait for him to drive 3 hours. Why would she? She can get that in San Francisco. She probably has been getting it in San Francisco, not that he believes she'll ever confess her past or her secrets. 

He knows she thrives on a challenge. Her ability to be matched intellectually by Mateo is probably one of the reasons she is so comfortable with their dynamic. Logan adds banter to the mental list of components he needs to have on hand at all times. "I don't accept defeat, just a break in the action."

"When you play with me, failure is almost certain. But if you want uncomfortable, I've got something for you. Something about me. We can start with the fact that I finally heard back from Keith."

"I'm going to assume that since you're still calling him Keith, it wasn't great."

"He responded to my email with an email. We could start with the good stuff."

"Always a good way to go."

"He told me he loves me."

"Did you doubt that?" Logan asks and looks at Veronica, but she doesn't meet his eye. 

"Probably not as a general idea, but there have been times when I've wondered if he cares much."

"Ouch. That's terrible. I'm sorry," Logan says and stops eating. 

"So, he loves me and he thinks it might be a good idea to set up a scheduled time to talk each week like he does with Cliff," Veronica continues not bothering to interrupt her stabs at her lettuce.

"That's a start," Logan soothes and picks his fork up again. He turns slightly in his chair so his knee bumps hers. She steals a glance at him, and he winks and gives her a small smile. She doesn't return his grin before looking back at her food. 

"It can't be a time when he's at home. We have to talk when he's at work because his wife thinks I'm, quote - unquote, morally flexible. Or was it morally ambiguous? Either way, you get the gist." 

"Ha," Logan laughs. "That's awesome. Can I use that phrase? I would really like to steal that." 

"Be my guest. I didn't come up with it, so I have no complaints about you passing it along."

"I actually don't think it's bad to be flexible."

"Not if you're an Olympic gymnast, but not great if you're looking to save your soul from eternal damnation."

"Didn't think you believed in that kind of stuff."

"I don't, but hardly the point."

"So, what is the point?" Logan asks with a sigh.

"That she, he, they believe I'm morally inferior to them."

"Hey," Logan says and bends his head so Veronica is forced to look at him. He shakes his head and rubs her bare thigh with his hand. "I'm sure your dad doesn't think that, Veronica. And anyway, don't all lawyers have to be a little flexible? Isn't that part of the hypocritical oath you have to take?" 

"Isn't it a little early in our relationship and in my career to start in on the lawyer jokes? I don't even know yet if I passed the bar." Veronica's face brightens at his attempt to soften the moment. 

"Never too soon for lawyer jokes. And, of course, you'll pass it."

"I hope so because I don't want to take it again."

"Did Keith have anything else to say?"

"In fact, he did not. He failed to respond in any way to my mentions of you or being a PI again. What do you think I can glean from that?" 

"That he thinks both are such great ideas that he doesn't even need to respond." 

"I hadn't thought about it that way. I was only going from the negative point of view. One of the ways morally flexible people look at the world."

"So no calling him dad at this point?"

"Don't think so."

Logan moves from his stool and moves to the other side of the island. He reaches for their plates and rinses them and leaves them wet on the counter. "And weren't you going to meet up with Mateo last night?"

"Yep."

"And how'd that go?"

"Beautifully. He and Keith should get together to form a 'Veronica's Judgment Sucks' club," Veronica says as she takes the last drink of her water and hands her empty glass to Logan. 

"And what's his problem? He should know you well enough to give you a pass." 

"I'm not the one he has the problem with. He didn't get a good vibe from you." 

"He didn't seem to mind my vibe when I was paying for all the food he ordered." 

"He's concerned you, us, we, whatever, it's going to wind up hurting me." 

"We do have a little history doing that to each other," Logan says before pausing. He opens the dishwasher and starts to load the plates. He clears his throat before speaking again. "Why do you think he feels like that? Did he dig up dirt on my past?"

"I don't think so. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think researching you is worth his time. That's just not how he operates. My guess is that it's just something he's going to have to get used to. It takes him time to adjust to new situations. Like it does with a lot of people. I don't think it's a big deal."

"So, he didn't tell you to stay away from me?"

"No. He said to do what makes me happy." 

"Good. 'Cause I don't think I could stay away from you again," Logan admits. 

**********

Logan reaches across the bed and feels a pile of sheets, but no body. His first thought isn't that Veronica has escaped during the middle of the night, but when he looks around the dark room and doesn't see her bags, the clothes that were piled on the floor, or her phone on the nightstand, he begins to panic. He quickly replays their time together after dinner, but he can't recall anything other than pleasure, passion, and some really fucking hot noises from Veronica. He can't think of one thing he might have done to piss her off. But he also knows he was never the best judge of what pisses off his girlfriend. 

"Veronica," he says loudly enough that she should be able to hear him if she's in the bathroom. There's no answer, only the continued hums of the refrigerator and the air conditioner and the darkness of the middle of the night. He finds his boxers on the floor, and moves off the bed. The living room and kitchen are dark and quiet. As he makes his way down the hall, he sees a thin light escaping from beneath the closed door of the second bedroom, the room he uses as an office. He listens at the door, and hears Veronica talking. When he opens the door, Veronica's back is to him sitting in his swivel chair at his desk, laptop open, knees pulled up to her chest. "What are you doing?"

Veronica doesn't turn to look at Logan but keeps staring at the laptop. "Talking to Mac."

Logan walks up behind her and she sees him enter the small picture of herself on the laptop screen. She whips her hand over the webcam, and startles, "Fuck. Logan. Put some clothes on."

"Hey, Mac. Long time." 

"Yeah, I'd say nice to see you, but I can't see you." 

"Seriously, get out of here if you're not going to wear clothes," Veronica chides and pushes him with her free hand.

"It's 3:00 in the morning, and you're wearing my shirt. Do you really think I'm going to go banging through the closet to find something to wear just to find you?"

"Well, there aren't too many places for me to hide, so it couldn't have taken too long to find me."

"You'd be surprised. Why'd you bring your bags in here?"

"Go back to bed Logan. I'm talking to Mac."

"Coming back soon?"

"Just go to bed." 

"See you, Mac," says Logan as he runs his hand through Veronica's hair.

"Next time maybe I will actually see you, Logan," Mac's voice echoes in the room. 

Logan turns and closes the door when he leaves. Veronica removes her hand from the webcam. "Sorry about that."

"Shit, when'd he get built like that?"

"I'm guessing that's what the navy does to a body."

"Maybe I should get Hugh to join the military."

"He's good where he is. Now where were we?"

"Got your notebook and your secret stash of Twizzlers?" Mac asks with a laugh in her voice. 

"You know, I have to write shit down or I'll forget what I want to talk to you about it. And, I hate to admit this, but I've really gone off the wagon. It's not just Twizzlers I'm hiding, but white chocolate covered gummy bears. Found them in Carmel. I'm fucking addicted. And like all addicts, I prefer no one, except you, know about it."

"There's a notes area on your phone. Use that instead. Then Logan won't freak about your bag going missing. I don't know what to say about the candy porn, except that I accept you for who you are, sugar faults and all."

"Thanks, bestie."

"Do you need to get back to him?"

"No. We're having a conversation. An important conversation. You were saying?"

Mac looks down before restarting their interrupted conversation, "So, I'm scared."

"I know you are. But you won't be any more or less scared by taking the test," Veronica guides. The bedside table sitting behind Mac's face is full of pictures of Mac's daughter. The large photograph above the bed is a framed picture Veronica took of the sun reflecting on the Pacific Ocean several years ago. 

"I'm not sure about that," Mac counters. 

"How late are you?"

"Just a couple of weeks. I thought the excitement of you visiting maybe messed me up."

"That's what I get? Stopping women from having their periods. Worst superpower ever."

"I can't be, Veronica."

"Who's in the house with you?"

"No one. Hugh's at work and the babysitter has Vee at the park. I'm supposed to be working from home today. Not getting much done, am I?"

"You're all alone. Perfect. You've got a test?"

"Yeah."

"Go pee on the stick and come back and talk to me."

"Shouldn't Hugh be here?"

"Yes, but you're talking to me, not Hugh, for some reason."

"Because I don't want him to get excited if it's a false alarm. Of course, it's a false alarm. I can't be pregnant." 

"Just go pee on the stick, Mac."

"What if I am?"

"Go pee on the stick."

"It can't be this easy this time." 

"Mac, would you please get up from the computer and go take the test?"

Mac disappears from the camera and Veronica waits patiently only moving from the view of the camera to disconnect her phone from the charger. When Mac returns, Veronica has a Twizzler dangling from her lips. 

"OK. Three minutes," Mac says as her face comes back onto the computer screen. "What are we going to talk about for the next 3 longest minutes in history?"

"That no matter what the test says, it's going to be OK," soothes Veronica. She can't recall how many times Mac has cried to her while looking at a negative sign on an at-home pregnancy test. It had been defeating to Veronica, but Mac wouldn't give up. She also wouldn't go with IVF, electing instead to let fate decide if she was mother material. 

"Of course, and when the test is negative, the disappointment will go away eventually. And I already have a wonderful daughter, and I need to be thankful for her."

"You are thankful for her. I know that. You show her that every day. So does Hugh. How's work going for Hugh?"

"He's so busy and they're talking about cuts again. They're always talking about cuts. There never seems to be enough money in any budget."

"That sounds like a universal theme. What new trick is Vee doing since I was there?"

"Oh my god, she's pulling weeds from the garden. Except they aren't weeds. They're flowers. You need to come back and teach her the difference between good and bad plants. If I have a bald garden next year, it's going to be your fault." 

"I'll get on the next plane. That sounds like an emergency to me. In England, I bet you do actually have horticultural emergencies. Hedgehog and horticultural emergencies." 

"How's life with Logan?"

"I can't imagine spending much time here. No offense to the U.S. military, but Lemoore's not exactly my idea of paradise. If I'm looking for a way to kill some time tomorrow, there's bingo at the senior center or story time at the library. Apparently, there's no one in this town during the day except the elderly and mothers with small children. I'm thinking I may be camped at Starbucks again."

"Give it some time. You're used to Stanford and San Francisco. Those are pretty tough to beat when it comes to cultural opportunities." 

"Yeah, kind of like London."

"Well, I'd just wind up at story time at the library. Do you want kids, Veronica?"

"I've got a kid."

"Right. Sorry. I didn't mean to diminish what you have with Mateo. I just meant a baby." 

"I've got your sweet girl. I can't imagine I could love any baby more than I love Vee."

"Yes, you could. You'd be surprised. And you still haven't actually answered me."

"I think I'd be a terrible mother. Don't you have to have a decent role model in order to be a good mother? I don't have one of those." 

"What about Logan? Does he want kids?"

"Fuck if I know. You think I led with that question when I saw him in Visalia? 'Long time no see, Logan. Ever think about having kids'?"

"If you don't want kids but he does, you should probably know that before you go too far into this. That could be a deal breaker." 

"Why would he want kids? His DNA and role models are even worse than mine." 

"Still. You should actually have that conversation," Mac says willing to place a bet that talk won't happen any time soon. 

Veronica watches the seconds count down on her phone. "It's been 3 minutes, Q." 

"I know."

"Come on. The worst part is over. You took the test. Now get the results." 

Mac turns over the blue and white stick in her hands. "Fuck."

"You going to tell me or you want to tell Hugh first?"

"It says I'm pregnant."

"Of course it does." 

"I should call the doctor."

"Yep."

"Oh god, Veronica," Mac says with tears in her eyes. "It's positive. Shit, don't tell Logan or Mateo. I've got to tell Hugh first."

"Of course, I won't tell anyone. You know I can keep a secret."

"Oh, do you think Madison's going to be pissed?"

"Why would she be?"

"Because she's due in 4 months. I don't want to steal her thunder."

"Another baby is just more excitement. She knows what you've been through. She'll be thrilled. Everyone will be thrilled." 

"You know, I still feel like I need to thank you for being almost-cool with Madison."

"We're not almost-cool. We are cool. Maybe not friends, but cool enough. She's your family. Kind-of-family? Extended-family? Whatever."

"I know, but it could still be awkward between the three of us. But you decided it wouldn't be."

"Well, she did offer up her womb to you. I'm supposed to be your best friend and even I didn't do that." 

"With her fourth kid on the way, I think we can all agree she's fertile enough for the three of us." 

"I'm just happy you've all been able to work it out. Combine your families and make some sort of cohesive unit. I know how important family is to you." 

"Yeah, it is. Um, I should go. You know, call the doctor."

"Yeah, you should. Talk tomorrow?"

"Oh my god, you better talk to me tomorrow. I'll be a basket case."

"Stay cool, BFF. Love you."

Veronica watches as Mac wipes tears from her eyes. "I love you, too. Thanks for being my best friend and doing this with me."

As the screen goes black, Veronica clicks her computer closed and wipes her eyes. She doesn't have anyone or anything she prays to, but she puts out a call to the universe to let Mac make it through the pregnancy. 

Veronica turns off the light near the desk and makes her way back to bed. She tries to slip under the covers without waking Logan, but he turns to her. 

"What's up with Mac?"

"Oh, just lots of girl talk," Veronica says as she smiles into the darkness and turns away from Logan. "Just best friends catching up." 

**********

The open door policy of Veronica and Mateo's home is quite literally that as the front door of the house stands wide for friends, coaches, and teammates to come and go from the house to the yard. The kitchen counters are full of pans of pasta warming over chafing candles. The wooden dough bowl is filled with watermelon, grapes, pineapple, and strawberries. Snickerdoodles, brownies, and chocolate chip cookies line trays on the kitchen table. Veronica is sure she will spend most of the day in the kitchen, but she doesn't mind because it seems to be the gathering spot for at least two groups at any one point. The only problem is the rising temperature in the house the longer they leave the air conditioning off. 

"Hi, Mrs. Mars."

"Treyvon Parker. It's great to see you. It's been so long. How are you?" Veronica smiles as she steps forward and hugs the young man who stands almost a foot and a half taller than her. "You know it's never been Mrs., and how many times have I asked you to call me Veronica?" 

"These are for you," Trey says as he hands Veronica a bouquet of lilies, sunflowers, and iris. The Trader Joe's price sticker is attached to the side of the clear cellophane bag. 

"Trey-ler Park, you're a fucking suck-up bringing flowers to my ma," Mateo says as he walks towards the kitchen.

"M-Cat," Trey says as turns his head away from Veronica, walks over towards the steps, and hugs his best friend and former roommate, housemate, and teammate. "Nice guys bring gifts when they go to someone's house, you asshole. Learn some fucking manners."

"You're saying ma never taught me manners?" 

"Shut up, fuckhead." 

"It's nice you're here, Trey," Veronica yells from across the room. "And thanks for the flowers. They're beautiful, and it's thoughtful." 

"See?" Trey scolds Mateo. "Thoughtful."

"Beer?" Mateo questions. 

"Fuck yeah," Trey says as they walk towards the front porch where the coolers are staged. 

Mateo's holding a square Fiji water bottle as he lifts the white cooler top open for his friend. Clear, green, and brown bottles float in the ice water. Segregation commands the porch with beer in the blue cooler, soda cans in the red insulator, and water and Gatorade in the gray box. Handwritten signs are taped to the top of each box indicating the contents of each. The smallest of the containers, the orange round one, has Mateo's signature scroll on the white lid. The permanent black ink has faded to gray over the years. _Ice in this container is for drinks only. Don't be gross. DO NOT stick you dirty hands in here. Use a cup, dumbass._

"I can't believe you're here, man," Mateo says as Trey picks a Corona from the ice and twists the cap. He places the cap on the porch railing, aligning it with the three dozen other caps. Mateo's instinct is to organize the caps according to brand, but he resists the urge. The best friends stand under the porch shaded from the early evening sun. 

Trey takes a swig of his beer and wipes his lips with the back of his hand before speaking. "Sorry I didn't make it to your games. My flight was late and then I stayed with my aunt. Catching the red eye back to D.C. tonight, but it's been so fucking long, man. We needed to catch up in person."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Mateo asks, scrunching his eyes at his friend. "You can't bullshit me. I know your aunt lives in L.A., asshole. But last I heard your Zia's living in the Haight. And single again." 

"Yeah. Who'd ya hear that from?"

"I hear things. People think I want to know shit. I don't. But they still insist on telling me. You been with her?"

"Barely left her bed in the last 36 hours."

"What's she doing these days? Besides you, that is."

"Working in the mayor's office. And, damn, she looks good in a tight business skirt."

"So, you came out here to get laid. You flew out to visit her and dropped by to see me," Mateo says and is unable to hide the hurt in his voice. "Nice, asshole. Great way to treat your best friend."

"Here to see both of you, man. Don't be like that."

"She's never going to move to D.C., Trey. You know that," Mateo says and shakes his head. "You moving back out here?"

"Can't. I'm deep in shit right now. Too much going on."

"If she doesn't fly out to visit you within a month, you have to let this go," Mateo instructs before taking another drink of his water. 

"Not sure I'll ever be able let her go. We'll be on-off in the nursing home."

"Dude, you gotta take care of yourself with her. Don't let her break you again. You know I got mad respect for her brain, but you need to find a nice girl. Someone who's not going to send out a signal and expect you to find your way back to her." 

"Nice? Do I seem like the type of guy who wants nice?" Trey asks, wishing there was a label on the beer bottle he could peel.

"You seem like the type of guy who shouldn't be shit on time and time again."

"Don't worry about me. I can handle it this time around," says Trey. "How's your girlfriend? She here?"

"Nah, you think I want her to meet your sorry ass. She'd think less of me if she knew you're my best friend." 

"Fuck off, asshole. There's no way anyone could think less of you." 

"And people wonder why our government is so fucked up with the likes of you running it." 

"I don't run it. I just keep tabs on the people who do."

"Whoever the fuck decided you should have security clearance needs to be deported." 

"Come on, show me a picture. What's she like?" Trey asks and wonders again why Mateo has never sent him any pictures.

"I told you. Smart. Kind. Hot. She's a motherfucking pilot," Mateo says proudly as he pulls out his phone and swipes until he finds the picture of Katie next to green water and brown rocks at Sequoia. 

Trey looks at the picture, takes the phone from Mateo's hand, and then studies it. "Dude, she's white." 

"Yeah."

"You never date white chicks." 

"Sure I do. I'm not racist."

"When's the last time you dated a white girl?" Trey asks, seriousness in his voice. 

"I don't know," Mateo says as he begins to reflect on his dating history. "I don't think about women like that."

"I've known you, what like 6, 7 years. And this is the first."

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Who else?"

Mateo can count on both hands the women he's slept with because he's not been one to date casually or sleep around like so many of his friends did. "I don't know. Prom, maybe." 

"Fucking high school! Don't get me wrong. She's beautiful and all, but not what I was expecting," says Trey. 

"I was so psyched thinking about spending three nights here in my own bed while we're playing in San Jose. But I miss her. It feels more like home being with her than being here."

"That's beautiful, man. You should write that shit down. Write it down and then burn that piece of paper. You want people to think you're a fucking English major? Get a grip." 

"You're right. I've got it bad, man. It's on the verge of embarrassing." 

"You've always had the strangest kink of anyone I've ever known." 

"I've got way more than one problem when it comes to sex and relationships," Mateo acknowledges as he leans back against the porch siding and rests his head on the cool wood slats. 

"First step is to recognize your deficiencies. But it's like you can't get hard unless you can have a meaningful conversation with a woman."

"Swear to you, man. First night I met her, she told me she gets physical copies of _The Economist_ sent to her in the mail and that she listens to the _Freakonomics_ podcasts. I thought I was going to bust the zipper in my shorts while she was talking."

"Kinky. As. Shit."

"People forget, the brain is the biggest erogenous zone in the body, dude," Mateo misquotes from one of Veronica's favorite movies. 

"Maybe in your scrawny body."

"Fuck off," Mateo counters.

"You need help, you pussy." 

"Years of therapy and I'm still like this."

"I know I give you shit, but it's cool, Mat. I'm glad things are working out with her." 

"What about you? Anyone besides Zia? Someone in D.C.?"

"Here and there, but nothing serious. There're too many uptight lawyers and wannabe political hacks in that city. They all pretend they're good while they're scheming how to get to the next rung." Trey takes a swig of his beer. 

"And, again, I ask why the fuck you're sleeping with Zia. Scheming political hack. No offense."

"Thanks. I'll tell her you said that. Tell her you send your love," Trey jokes. "How's the season going?"

"Good, but you may want to talk to my coaches to get a less biased opinion."

"They here?" Trey asks and Mateo points to a group of men sitting in lawn chairs near the front bushes. "I'll just wander over there and tell them they need to hassle you more if they want any decent kind of performance out of you." 

"Batting over 370. Can you believe that shit? It's like I'm on steroids or something. I haven't hit that well since, well, ever." 

"Good for you, man. I mean it. You deserve this shot."

"Trey, man, it's still so fucking fun to be playing. The pay is for shit, but every day I'm out there throwing a motherfucking ball around. It's criminal how much fun it is."

"So, you plan to keep going?"

"Who knows? It'd be nice, but I don't really get a say in that. They can cut me any time they want. Trade me. I'm just a commodity." 

"Seems like we all are."

"You playing once in awhile?"

"Nah, those Tuesday night leagues are for pissheads, Mat. There's no way they could hit my fastball. They'd all strike out and walk away mad. That'd be no fun." 

"Yeah, I can't imagine playing in a rec league. When this is over, I'll just have to give up baseball altogether. That'll suck."

Their conversation lulls as the two reflect on how much baseball has shaped their lives. It is the bond of their friendship, the link that won't separate two boys, now men, with such diverse backgrounds. They will travel different paths, take jobs thousands of miles apart, meet new women, have children, grow old, but they will be forever connected by their hours in the team bus, sweat in the weight room, and shouts from the dugout. 

"So, what's Veronica up to these days?" Trey asks, disturbing their silence. He raises an eyebrow and glances from side to side. 

"Keep it in your pants, dude. That's my ma."

"I know. I know. No disrespect, man. You know I wouldn't do anything. You guys saved me."

"Fuck off. We gave you a bed. A dead guy's bed." 

"When you say it like that, it sounds creepy." 

"When you ogle my ma, it is creepy." 

"But really. What's she doing with herself? She looks tight, man." 

Mateo shakes his head and drinks half the bottle of water he's holding. "She just finished law school. Maybe you've got a job for her. She's looking to go undercover." 

"She can go under the covers with me any night."

"Seriously, I am about to fucking punch you, bastard." 

"It's all good, M-Cat," Trey says laughing and hits his friend in the shoulder. "I'm just trying to get a rise out of you. See how far I can push you. You're so fucking easy to piss off, man. I still know exactly what to do to get you riled up. It's like it's not even a game with you. Too. Fucking. Easy." 

"You need to get a fucking hobby, asshole," Mateo retorts back. "She's seeing someone now." 

"Veronica? Fuck. Who landed her?" 

"I only met him once, but he seems like a tool. Super tool." 

"Do we need to wipe him?"

"Last time we did that, you almost got kicked out of school," Mateo says as he taps his empty plastic bottle against the house.

"But by the grace of Veronica's negotiating abilities."

"She knows how to enchant a dean, doesn't she?"

"Seriously though, man. Want me to play around a little? I could use some fun."

"If he turns out to be the douche I think he is, I'll get back to you with his name, rank, and serial number." 

"Serial number? Military?" asks Trey.

"Yeah. Problem?"

"Fuck no. Just more fun for me."

"When my frustration equals your fun, I know things are going to be handled."

"Life seems pretty good for you. Girlfriend, check. Baseball, check. Veronica, check." 

"Yeah, mostly good. I talked to one of my professors yesterday morning. Trying to figure out how to get back to taking classes, start on my PhD. I miss school, man. Ever think you'd hear me say that?" 

"Yeah, I def knew you'd go back to school."

"I need something to challenge my brain before it turns to mush."

"So, your teammates aren't the intellects you were expecting."

"One of them asked me what country Colombia's in," Mateo sighs. 

"Bet he can name three Victoria Secret models." 

"I swear I'm, like, halfway through every TED talk ever recorded."

"I'll send you some shit so you can learn to navigate the dark web. The shit that goes down there is unfuckingbelievable, man. Just don't trace it back to me, dude, if you get caught doing something illegal."

"Can't get me kicked out of the minors, can it?" 

"Can get you kicked out of the country, bro." 

"Cool. Send it the fuck over," Mat says as he hands Trey a cold beer to replace the empty bottle in his hand. "Come on, man. Let me introduce you to Jack. Best coach I've ever had." 

**********

Katie's red Volkswagen is parked in what could be considered the non-chain grocery store's parking lot. The Mexican restaurant sits at the end of the strip mall anchoring the food mart, the dollar store, the strip mall, and the vast concrete parking area. The touch of color is found in the waving advertising banners spiked into the hardened dirt patch next to the sidewalk. 

Veronica isn't sure if this restaurant would be considered a dive, and she has nothing against dive bars or eateries. Sometimes the best finds are in the hidden spots in a town or city. What is bothersome is the generic facade, the faded paint of the striped lines, the enormous parking lot that will surely never be filled, and the overall depressing nature of the area. The white streaks in the blue sky only add to the claustrophobic feeling as they seem to bring the heavens closer. 

As Logan turns off the car, he glances at Veronica. "It doesn't look like much, but the food is authentic."

"I'm sure it's great," Veronica says and opens her door without looking back at Logan. Palo Alto has lulled her into an unexciting routine, but she yearns for the green plants, clean streets, familiar faces, and interesting buildings of her adopted hometown. The boredom of Palo Alto is nothing to the thought of losing her mind in Lemoore. 

As Veronica swings the heavy glass door open, she watches Mateo fish tablets from his pocket and pop them in his mouth. He chews rapidly and takes a quick swallow of the ice water sitting near his right hand. The double date is Veronica's idea and the Mexican restaurant is Logan's pick, and Veronica is sure it is not how Mateo wants to spend his evening. 

Katie and Mat are sitting in an unusual table/booth combination that seems to be the only option for two couples. They've taken the wooden chairs facing the door and left the booth bench for Logan and Veronica. Veronica walks towards them and smiles. She rubs Mateo's thick hair and says, "Hi, Katie. It's good to see you again."

"You too, Veronica," Katie replies and returns her smile. "Thanks for bringing Mat back to me." 

"It was nice to have quality car time with him again. Even if it consisted mostly of NPR and his snoring." 

"Name one person Terry Gross doesn't put to sleep," Mateo counters. "We've ordered. They're waiting to serve us until we've all ordered. Just go to the cash register and tell them what you want. You pay before they bring the food." As Veronica listens to his instructions, she concludes that he ordered in Spanish, established a bond, and became an ally to the staff. 

Veronica turns around and notices Logan standing outside talking on his phone. He acknowledges her with one finger and Veronica walks closer to the overhead sign listing the possible menu options. "One chicken torta and a bottle of Mexican Coke," Veronica says and turns to find Logan. "And he's paying," she adds and points to the man still standing outside. 

Veronica makes her way to the other couple and sits across from Mateo, folding one leg under the other and placing her leather purse next to her. "Katie says she's never been here before," Mateo says. 

"I usually go to a place closer to my apartment. But I'm sure this is good. Although the lack of other customers is a worry," Katie jokes. 

"I like your haircut," Veronica says as she looks at the other woman. Mateo puts his hand on Katie's head and lets it fall until it rests on her neck. 

"Thanks. It's going to be awhile before I can go back to long hair. That tiny ponytail got to be annoying, so I just chopped it off." 

"It suits you." 

"Thanks."

"Just water, Mat?" Veronica questions, assessing Mateo's health. 

"Cucumber lime water," he replies without looking at her. 

"Sounds healthy. Healthier than the Coke I ordered," Veronica says. 

"Sorry about that," Logan says as he walks up to the table. 

"No problem," Katie responds. "We're just chatting." 

"Hey, Mateo. Nice to see you again," Logan says and sticks his hand across the table. He pushes aside his disinterest in the younger man, and finds the charm his parents natured and nurtured into him. He needs to be on top of his game during the meal and he knows it's a fine line for him between cocky and charming, swagger and smarm, arrogance and endearing. 

"Yeah, you too, man," Mateo acknowledges as he removes his hand from Katie's neck and shakes Logan's hand. 

"I'll just order and be back," Logan comments and turns away from the table. 

"I told them you're paying for my meal," Veronica banters. 

"Seems fair. You did drive all this way. A $2 taco seems like the least I can do."

"Did you have a good time in London?" Katie asks.

"The best. Have you been?"

"Not since I was in middle school. I'd love to go back." 

"You should. There's nothing not to love." 

"Mat showed me a video of Mac's baby. She seems cute," Katie continues with her small talk and feels Mateo's hand brush her thigh. She's missed his subtle touches and is looking forward to the 4-day home stretch with him stretched out in her home. 

"She's such a sweetheart. It seems like every day I was there she was doing something new and exciting. They learn so much at that age."

"One bottle of Mexican Coke. Cap on with bottle opener. Can't be too careful," Logan says as he takes a seat next to Veronica and puts his own plastic glass of water on the table. 

"Thanks," Veronica says to Logan but looks at Mateo as she feels his eyes question her. 

"Guaranteed to be tamper resistant," Logan continues. 

"Mm-hmm," Veronica nods. 

"Just in case there are any lingering trust issues," Logan says quietly as he slides into the booth, unsure why he's rambling. 

Mateo stares at Veronica and she slowly shakes her head at him. Mateo looks at her, glances at Logan, and looks back at Veronica. It takes Mateo five seconds to say three words. "What. The. Fuck." 

"No, Mat."

"Am I wrong?"

"You don't know everything."

"Am I wrong?" Mateo asks again and Katie and Logan watch the two of them engage in a standoff. "Katie, I need to leave. Can you give me a ride?" 

"What the hell, Mat? We don't even have our food yet," Katie complains. 

"I'm leaving." He stands from his chair and walks to the counter. "Lo siento pero tengo que irme. Una emergencia ha surigido," he says to the woman at the order window. He drops another $10 in the tip jar and strides out the door.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on," Katie mutters, embarrassment visible on her face. "I'll just go check on him." 

"It's better if I do it," Veronica says.

"Veronica," Logan questions. "What's going on?"

"I told you he's brilliant. Didn't I tell you he's the smartest person I know? He's put the pieces together."

"What pieces? Pieces of what?"

"Pieces I tried to hide," she says and grabs her purse before leaving the table. 

"What the hell is happening?" Katie asks Logan. 

"No fucking idea." 

Veronica reaches Mateo as he's popping more tablets in his mouth with one hand and thumbing his phone with the other hand. "I'm right, aren't I?" Mateo asks as he sees Veronica approach him.

"Mat, I haven't told you everything. I don't want to tell you everything."

"You don't have to, but I'm not having dinner with that asshole. In fact, I'm not having anything to do with him." 

"You're overreacting."

"Am I? I don't think I am. I think you're under-reacting," Mateo responds as Katie walks towards him. "I'm really sorry, Kate. If there was an Uber in this shithole town, I'd keep you out of this. Can you take me back to the apartment? Please." 

"Hey, Mat. What's going on? You're upsetting everyone. Turning this into a bad night," Logan says as he meets up to Veronica and puts his arm around her. 

"Seriously, dude, you need to shut the hell up. I don't want to embarrass my girlfriend or risk her job, so just stay the fuck away from me. And her." Mateo feels Katie slip her hand into his. 

"What is your problem?" Logan tenses as he begins to feel like a teenager again. 

"Logan, don't," Veronica demands. 

Logan feels Veronica's featherweight touch on his chest. He checks himself. It's hard for him to think about the guy across from him as anything other than a punk kid, a spoiled shit who's chosen to play a stupid game for a profession. But he is more than that. He's Veronica's kid. Blood or not, he's her son. The last thing he needs to do is to be aggressive towards Veronica's charge. There would be no recovery and no forgiveness for that sin. And not just from Veronica. He's not sure his own psyche would heal, final proof that he is in fact no better than his own abuser. He would become his father. 

"We need to leave," Mateo says. Katie unlocks the doors with a click and they both slide into their seats and close the doors. 

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Katie asks. 

"It's Veronica's story to tell," Mateo responds while Katie pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road. "I'm sorry, Katie. I don't want you involved. I seriously want to fuck him up. But I won't. I won't do that to you. I don't want you to think that I'd do that." 

"Play to your strengths."

"Right. So, I'll make a couple of calls and I'll fuck him up in other ways."

"If you'd just tell me, we could sort things out."

"I'll just grab my stuff and text coach. I'm sure I can crash with him tonight, and I'll find somewhere to bunk during this home stretch. Then I'll figure something else out," Mateo says as he pulls two more round tablets from his pocket and chews them. He wonders if he can overdose on antacids. They now seem part of his food pyramid. 

"You're moving out?" Katie says panicked. 

"You can't be involved when shit goes down. I won't do that to you, babe. You're too important." 

"What shit is going to go down, Mat?" 

"Nothing. I'm not going to do anything."

"Then what are the people you're going to call going to do?"

"You can't know that," Mateo says as they finally pull into Katie's apartment parking lot. 

"No. You can't move out." 

"Babe, you're always saying this is just a temporary arrangement. OK. I get that. That's what you want. It's just time to end it sooner than we thought." 

"No," she says as they remain in the car. 

"Kates."

"No, this isn't how you solve a problem. You don't call someone to fix things. You don't move away. No. You aren't moving out." 

"Fuck, Kates. I don't want to fight with you. You don't deserve to be in the middle of this. That's all I'm saying. The way for you to stay out of it is for me to leave. You have to be able to work with that asshole. You'll doubt if you can trust him if I'm around telling you how much I hate the bastard. You think I want to jeopardize your safety and your ability to do your job? Fuck no." 

Mateo hears his phone ping again with another text from Veronica. _Don't you dare contact Trey or Mac._

Mateo shakes his head and slips the phone in his pocket without responding. 

"Just come into the apartment. We'll talk about this. We can work something out," Katie pleads. 

Mateo opens his door and waits for Katie to meet him in front of the car. He pulls her close to him and wraps his arms around her. "I love you, Kates. I can't imagine ever not loving you. But if I'm right about what he did, this shit is dark and twisted. And I'm not going to be a good guy if I'm around him. You deserve to be with a good guy. A great guy. Because you are the best person I know. I've ever known." 

"Fuck you, Mat," she cries with tears leaving her eyes. "You don't get to say that and then just move out." She pushes away from him and climbs the stairs to her apartment. 

**********

"What's happening, Veronica?" Logan asks as they sit in his car in the parking lot. He stays calm even when she doesn't answer him. "Veronica. What's going on?" 

"Years ago, I was trying to teach him about respecting women. And I mentioned that it was personal because of what happened at Shelly's party. I didn't give him all the details. I told him to make sure he didn't take advantage of women or give them drugs or too much alcohol. Watch what goes into drinks. You know stuff like that. I never specifically mentioned your name. I swear."

"Fuck." 

"When he heard you talk about the bottle cap and trusting you, he must have put it together. And he probably thinks it was you." 

"Fuck. I don't know why I said all that. I'm sorry. Sorry I brought up that old shit. Sorry I was babbling," Logan pleads. "It's not an excuse, but there's something about that kid that unnerves me. Like he sees through me. He's worse than your dad." 

"A loving mother would say he has unique gifts. A psychologist might want to medicate him, and a priest might be on the lookout for demonic psychic abilities," Veronica responds, half-joking. 

"I'm sorry. You wanted a nice night, and it took me 3 minutes to fuck it up," Logan confesses rubbing his hands through his short hair. 

"I just have to make it right. Just talk to him. Make sure he knows it wasn't you," Veronica says as she organizes the steps to making the situation correct. 

"It was me, Veronica," he admits. "I was the one who brought drugs to the party." 

"Right. But I'm guessing he thinks you're also the one who raped me."

"Fuck."

"I'm sorry, Logan. I'll figure this out. I am so sorry." 

"How is this your fault?"

"I didn't tell him everything. I didn't want to. I still don't want to. And now it's just all a mess. I don't want to think about any of this. Life is a lot nicer when I can put it in the back of my brain and try to forget that it happened. I'm sorry. I'll make this better." 

"God, we were so young then, weren't we? Why didn't we think the shit we did back then would still haunt us so many years later?" Logan takes her hand in his. "You don't have to be sorry. I'm sorry. What do you want me to do? Do you want me to talk to him? You get to decide how this is handled. It happened to you. Because of me." 

"Just let me think for awhile," she says and takes her hand back from his grip. She runs her hands over her face and then starts texting. 

_We should talk._

She waits for his response. If there's one thing she's been able to count on in her life over the last few years, it's a quick text response from Mateo if he isn't on a baseball field. She waits. She watches the minutes tick by on her phone. 

_Mat, please text me back. We need to talk about this._

"Maybe just drive to Katie's apartment. Do you know where she lives?" Veronica asks. 

"Yeah, I do." 

Veronica doesn't ask how he knows her address, how many times he's been to her apartment, or what circumstances made him a guest in her home. Instead, she watches her phone for a response and doesn't notice the bleak scenery of Lemoore. Finally, she speaks again. "I will be devastated if I've fucked this up with Mateo." 

"It'll be OK, Veronica. He should be pissed. But he's not pissed at you. He's pissed at me. And that's fine. He has some right to be."

"He must be pissed at me or he'd text me back. And, yeah, I'm pretty sure he's pissed at you, too." 

_Don't you dare contact Trey or Mac_ , Veronica types. 

"It'll be OK, Veronica."

"Except his best friend, who happens to be quite fond of me, has security clearance at the NSA. Think he can hack into your military records? Because I wouldn't put it past either of them."


	2. Bottom of the Inning

Katie sits next to Mateo on the edge of her bed. There is a quiet ease in the room despite the threat of a looming fight. The overhead fan whirls moving the cool air around the room. Mateo pulls his phone out of his front pocket and sets it down on the bed next to him. 

"Look," Katie starts. "Maybe I haven't been as honest with you as I should have been. Let me be real. I haven't been honest with myself either."

"I really don't know how to be anything except honest, babe."

"I know, and that's both admirable and annoying. But here's the thing. I love you," she pauses realizing she hasn't yet revealed any new, honest information to her boyfriend. "I don't want you to move out, and I don't want this to be over at the end of the season. And I've been trying to tell myself to keep this casual because this, what's been happening between you and me, makes no sense. And I know there are so many reasons why all of this is crazy, but it's how I feel." 

"I don't want to leave and you know the last thing I want is for us to be over. But I don't want you in the middle of this, either. I agree. This shit that's going on between us is ridiculous. You have me wondering if I should quit baseball and get married. Before I met you, I would never have considered doing either one, especially because some random chick asked me to."

"I don't think I asked you to, and please don't quit baseball. I know how much you love it." 

"I do. Almost as much as I love you." Mateo hears his phone chime and sighs before looking at the screen. 

_YOU NEED TO TEXT ME BACK SO WE CAN TALK._

_I'm in the middle of something with Katie._

_PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON. YOU HAVE 5 MINUTES._

_Fine. But just you and me. And not here._

_TOO LATE. WE'RE BOTH HERE. AT KATIE'S._

_Hell no._

"What's going on?" Katie asks. 

"They're both here and they want to come in and talk." 

"What do you think?" 

"It's up to you. It's your house."

"It's our house, Mat," Katie says as she leans into him. "What do _you_ want to do?"

"Bar the door and don't let any of this shit ruin our life together."

"If we let them in, do you think they'll want tea and cookies? 'Cause I think I may be all out of warmth and hospitality," Katie says weary of the conversation and the night. 

"If we let them in, you have to step in if I lose my shit." 

"Deal. Let's get this over," Katie says as she stands from the bed and walks to the living room. She unlocks the door and opens it to leave it ajar for the intruders. What she doesn't expect is to see both Logan and Veronica standing outside her front door. "Fuck. You scared me. When you said you were here, I didn't know you meant right here at the front door." 

"Thanks, Katie," Veronica says. "I appreciate you letting us use your place to talk."

"Not much choice, really. Come in," she says as she opens the door wider to allow them to pass through. "No yelling. And no punching. I have neighbors to think about." 

"Of course," Veronica agrees. "We can all be adults about this. Where's Mat?"

"Bedroom." 

"Mat, get your ass out here," Veronica directs. 

"Ma," Mateo says as he enters the room carrying a red water bottle, "I respect you for all you've done for me. But I swear to god, you yell at me one more time, and I'm walking out." 

Veronica sits on the plaid couch and Logan drops down next to her. Katie and Mateo sit in the wingback chairs across from the couch. They are separated by a narrow, pine coffee table. Mateo places his bottle on the beige rug. 

"So," Mat begins. "You didn't answer me before. Am I wrong?"

"Yes, you're wrong," Veronica counters. 

"I am? OK. If I'm wrong, I apologize. Easy conversation. Nice of you to stop by, but it's time for you to go." 

"You're making this too black and white, too right and wrong."

"You tell me the gray area of drugging and raping someone," Mateo states calmly. 

"Shit," Katie whispers and her eyes widen. "Is that what's happening here?" 

"Katie, I'm sorry," Veronica starts while looking at her hands in her lap. "I don't talk about this much, and I'm sorry you're involved at all. But, yes, when I was in high school, I was raped. And I think Mat's under the impression that Logan did that to me. And he didn't. And we need to clear that up before it gets any further out of hand." 

"Right. So he's not and never has been," Mateo says looking only at Veronica, "involved in any way."

"Yeah, I was," Logan interjects. 

"Logan, you didn't rape me," Veronica says. 

"No, but I was at the party, and I brought the drugs, and I certainly didn't stop anything from happening." 

"Fuck," Katie whispers and leans back in her chair.

"So, not entirely wrong," Mateo glares. "Do I get to retract my apology?" 

"It was a long time ago, and none of us knows or remembers what happened exactly. But Logan and I talked about this years ago, and we came to an understanding, and I forgave him. So, at this point, it's not your business, Mat." 

"Not by business. I told you if I found out he hurt you, I'd be pissed that you're back with him." 

"He's changed. It was a long time ago."

"How do you know?" Mateo asks. 

"How do I know what?" 

"That he's changed. You haven't seen him for years. He pops back into your life and we're all supposed to believe he's a great guy now. You don't know that. You're just taking his word for it." Mateo turns his head from looking at Veronica to staring at Logan. "So, dude, once this happened, does that mean you changed into a great guy and didn't do anything else to mess with Veronica? You became such great friends that you decided not to speak for a decade. Sounds totally plausible." 

"We have a complicated past, and I should have been better to her. You're right. I should have been a nicer guy. But I like to think I've improved a little bit as a human being since I was a teenager, but sometimes I still wonder. One thing I know for sure is that none of us is good all the time."

"Totally agree. On my best day, I'm a moody, arrogant, selfish asshole, but don't compare what you did to me." 

"Mat," Veronica says, "what happened to me happened. I've accepted it. I've moved on, and you need to do that. I know this is all new information to you, but you don't get to be the wounded victim in this. It was up to me how I wanted to handle it when it happened, and it's up to me how to handle it today. And it's up to me what I want people to know and who I want in my life."

"I agree. Which one of us do you want in your life?"

"Don't put her in that situation," Logan says. "You're punishing her for something that happened to her, not for something she did. You're punishing her for something I did. That's not fair."

"I get that. Sorry, ma. It was wrong of me to say that."

"But we're not cool, are we, Mat," Veronica asks.

"Nah, ma, we aren't."

"But we will be," Veronica declares. 

"Who knows? Stranger things have happened. But I've got nothing for this guy you're dragging around with you," he says looking at Logan. "You want me to be pleasant to him for your sake? I'll try. But you know I have no ability to bullshit." 

Veronica stands from the couch. "Let's go, Logan. We need to let Mat calm down a little. I'm afraid one of us is going to say something we'll regret." Logan stands and walks to the front door and holds it open for Veronica. 

"See you, Dutch," Logan says as he closes the door behind him. 

Mateo and Katie are quiet, and Mateo has his face in his hands. Finally, he turns his head from his hands and calmly asks, "Why the fuck does he know where you live?"

"You know. We work together." 

"Nope. Not the whole truth, is it? He knows exactly which apartment is yours." 

"Yeah, OK. He's been here a few times, but you don't need to get upset."

Mateo closes his eyes before questioning her again. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing, Mat. I swear. He's been over to pick me up and to watch some movies and split some pizza. That was before I knew you. We didn't even sit on the couch at the same time. I think he was just trying to be a nice guy. Be a friend."

"How many female friends do you think a guy like that has?"

"I don't know. I never asked. But don't make this about us, Mat. And don't take your anger out on me. I haven't done anything wrong." 

"You're not the one I worry about doing something wrong," Mat says and walks into the bedroom, closing the door between them.

**********

"I could've left you a ticket at the box office," Mateo says to the ground as he bends over to unhook his shin guards. "You didn't have to sit alone in the stands. Katie's here." 

Veronica stands with her purse over her shoulder. "I saw her sitting in the front row. Nice of her to come to the game on a school night." Veronica waves and smiles at the coaches standing near the pitcher's mound.

"You too." 

"You were really hitting tonight."

"Guess I had some frustrations to take out on the ball." 

"Going back to Katie's?"

"Yeah. You should've told her you were coming to the game. You could have carpooled. Save the environment and all." 

"I wasn't sure it would be a great idea with all of us in the car together."

"Suit yourself. Gotta go. Cool down. Shower. You know the routine. Katie's waiting."

"Yep. Of course. Good game, Mateo."

"Thanks," he says as he pats the batboy on the cap before heading into the dugout. 

Veronica turns away from the field and begins her ascent up the stairs. The cracking of peanut shells under her feet and the smell of spilled beer comfort each step. As she walks past the women's restroom, Katie bumps into her. "Veronica. Hi. Guess this stadium is the place to run into someone, isn't it?" 

"Hi, Katie. Must be. Mateo had a good game, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Great. Who goes 4 for 4? Were you here for the whole game? I didn't see you." 

"Sitting up top. In the stands. Down first base." 

"Oh. So as far away from me as you could get," Katie hesitates. 

"Well, things still seem a little awkward after last night." 

"Probably true. Logan's not with you, is he?"

"I'm not that crazy."

Katie laughs. "Mat's going to come around. You know that, right?" 

"You think so?"

"He can't stay mad. Especially not at you. You're the most important person in his life." 

"I think that's you now, Katie." 

"Don't kid yourself. I don't. It's still you, Veronica. And that's OK. Keep working on him. Keep sending him texts. He's upset because he loves you and he's had so much respect for you. In his own way, he's trying to protect you."

"I'm supposed to protect him, not the other way around."

"We all need someone to look out for us once in awhile." 

"I suppose that's true," Veronica says as she takes a step away. "It was good to see you again. Drive safely."

"You too. I'll be at tomorrow night's game if you're still going to be around. Text Mat or me and we'll get seats together." 

"That's really kind, Katie. I appreciate the offer," she says as she walks away. Veronica refuses to cry at a baseball field. Stone-faced, she makes her way to the well-used SUV, slings her purse onto the passenger seat floor, and drives out of the parking lot. She crosses the road and pulls into the convenience store lot. She turns off the car, puts her hands over her face, and lets the tears come down. 

She won't allow herself to return to Logan's condo in a harried state. She had felt his disappointment in her decision to go to Mateo's game. She couldn't fault his arguments. That they all needed time to reassess the situation. That she should spend her night with someone who wanted her around. That she had driven all the way to see him and then they weren't seeing each other. That he deserved her attention as much at Mateo did. But a few tears do not indicate defeat. She can have it both ways, have both men in her life. She's convinced she'll be able to keep it together once she gets back to Logan's condo if she just takes a few minutes to break down in private. 

**********

"Pretty sure that's Veronica across the street, isn't it?" Katie asks following the enticing kiss from Mateo. 

"Fuck. What's she doing?"

"I don't know. I've been watching her, but she hasn't moved in about 10 minutes. Think she's OK?" 

"Hold on," Mateo says as he tosses his duffle bag into the trunk. "Give me 5 minutes." He walks away from the red Jetta and jogs across the busy street. He knocks on the passenger window. 

Veronica looks up, sees Mateo standing at the window, and hits the unlock button. She wipes her cheeks and glances in the rearview mirror, but it's dark in the parking lot, and she can't see details of her face. Mateo takes a seat but neither of them say anything. 

"Things are really fucked up between us, aren't they?" Veronica questions. 

"Yeah, they are."

"I hate that. I hate this. I hate not being able to talk to you. I hate that you seem to look down on me."

"I've always looked down on you, shorty."

"Now in more ways than just literally," Veronica tries to joke but can't bring herself to smile. 

"It's not that I'm so pissed off, but I don't understand. I swear, I'm trying to be logical about this, but it makes no sense to me."

"Which part makes no sense?"

"Why you want to be with that loser. Why you're so desperate. Why you're willing to risk our relationship for one with him. There are 3 billion men on the planet, and he's the one you take up with after my dad. It's fucked up, Veronica." 

Veronica winces at the sound of him saying her name. "I honestly don't know how to fix this. I've tried so hard since your dad died to be someone you could count on. I would think by now that you could trust the decisions I make. Why won't you trust me that I'm making the right choice with Logan?" 

"You should have been upfront about all this from the start. You were cagey with me from the moment you saw him at the ballpark. You weren't honest with me about how much you've been seeing him since. You weren't honest about what he did in the past. What part of any of this makes me think I can trust you or him?" 

"I just didn't want to get ahead of myself. There didn't seem to be any reason for you to know what was happening as long as things were just casual. You've never needed to know who I was spending time with." Mateo rubs his hands over his face. "Thanks for shaving, by the way. You look much better. Much more gentlemanly."

"Great. That's what I'm going for."

"Apart from me not seeing Logan, tell me what we can do to get back on track." 

"Just give it time, I guess. We just go about our own lives for awhile. Then we'll see where we end up." 

Veronica feels this strange tingle that starts in her throat and works its way down to her stomach. Her heart flutters and her face reddens. Tears appear back in her eyes. "You are my own life, Mat. I'm not just going to disappear or let you cut me out of your life. Days will turn into weeks and then months and then it will be years since we've gotten on with our own lives. I don't want that anymore. The pain isn't any easier and the problems aren't any less just because people separate."

"Katie's waiting for me," he says with his hand on the door handle. 

"I'm going to keep texting and calling and showing up at your games."

"Really, I've got to go. Katie shouldn't be alone in the parking lot." 

"She's a good soul, Mat."

"You think I don't know that? I'll well aware that she's way too good for me," Mateo agrees, exasperated and frustrated.

"You're a good soul, too, Mat. That's why the two of you work." 

Mateo steps out of the car and just before he closes the door he sticks his head back inside. "I got the call today. I'm going to Arizona this fall," he says as he swings the door shut and jogs back to Katie. 

**********

Mateo rests his hand on the small of Katie's back while she unlocks the deadbolt to her apartment. His gentle touch soothes the worry that should be sitting in the back of her mind but that migrated to the front when she watched Veronica cry in her car. When the door opens, Katie walks directly to the refrigerator helping herself to some cold water. She listens to the sounds of Mateo relaxing - the drop of his bag, the low notes of his flip flops hitting the ground, the scratching of his hands in his hair. 

"Water? Milk? Beer?"

"Nah," he replies. "I'm good." 

"There's another sandwich in the fridge."

"Thanks for the one in the car. You're always thinking. Always planning ahead. You'll be such a good mom some day."

"I think it takes more than the ability to make sandwiches to be a good mom," Katie jests.

"You know that's not what I meant." 

"Coming to bed or staying up to unwind?"

"Not sure," he says as he sits on a stool at the kitchen counter. Katie kisses his cheek before she walks away, leaving the rest of her water sitting next to him. He takes the glass, digs out a couple of Tums, and washes down the candy-like medicine he's already sick of chewing. When Katie walks back to the kitchen, she's in her black pajama set. Mateo can smell the antiseptic sting of her face wash and the mint of her toothpaste. She sidles up to him and leans against his side. As if on instinct, his arm wraps around her waist. 

"Text Veronica and ask if she can give me a ride to the game tomorrow night. Then you can have the car." 

Mateo turns his head to look at her but doesn't respond. Instead, he slips his hand under her pajama shirt and caresses her soft skin. "You going to miss me when I'm in Arizona?"

"I really will. But it's not that far and not for that long. We can FaceTime and Skype and text and call. And I'll figure out a way to visit some of the weekends. Now that we know for sure, we can start making plans." Katie lifts his hand away from her and lets it drop behind her. "Text Veronica and ask her if I can have a ride to the game." 

Mateo pulls his phone out of his pocket and punches in the magic digits that allow him access to the world. 

_Katie wants to know if you can give her a ride to the game tomorrow night._

_Sure._ The response is so quick he knows she must have the phone in her hand. 

"She said sure."

"Ask her if she wants me to get her a ticket so we can sit together." 

"Why don't you just text her?"

"Because it needs to come from you."

_Do you want her to call for tickets so you can sit together?_

_That would be nice of her._

_She's always nice._

_Yes, she is._

Mateo holds up his phone so Katie can read the written conversation. "Happy?"

"It's a good first step, but you have more work to do."

" _I_ have work to do. What the fuck does that mean?" Mateo sighs as he puts his phone on the counter and watches the screen go black. 

"You have to make this right with Veronica. You can't put bad energy into the world. You know you'll apologize eventually, so just do it now and we can go to bed."

"Apologize? No fucking way. What do I have to apologize for?"

Katie turns to face him and places her hands on his cheeks. She kisses him softly on the lips. "For not trusting her judgment." She kisses him again. "For doubting her decision." A kiss to each eyelid. "For making her believe she's disappointed another important guy in her life." A peck to the nose. "For allowing her to believe you won't stick around." A lingering kiss back on the lips. "For making her think for even one second that you would make her choose between you and Logan." 

"Babe, I can't with him," he says as runs his hands down her ass and back up the front of her thighs. 

"It's not about him," she says as she takes his hands in hers. "It's about your relationship with the woman who's been there for you for years. You owe her. You will always owe her." 

"I'm not sure it's a sincere apology if you're forcing me to do it."

"I'm not forcing you. I'm just guiding you to do something you'll eventually do anyway. How would you feel if Veronica didn't like me and you were put in an awkward position?" 

"Um, you've already put me in an awkward position," he says as he moves her hand to his erection. 

"I'm happy to help with that problem, but you've got to send her a text first," she replies and teases him with her fingers. 

"Judas Priest. I don't think this is fair," he moans as he shakes his head and grabs his phone. 

_I'm sorry. Late breakfast in the morning?_

_That would be great. Where? When?_

_Here. 10:30._

_I'll be there. Thanks. Good night._

"Is that so hard?" Katie asks with a sly smile on her face. 

"Uncomfortably hard."

"How about if we continue with this theme and you keep doing what I suggest?"

"I could be down with that." 

"Take your shirt off and come to bed." Mateo leaves his black and white slides by the counter and lifts his t-shirt over his head as he follows Katie to the bedroom. He hits the light switch on his way out of the room. 

Mateo stops behind Katie and wraps his arms around her. One hand slides into her waistband and the other up her shirt. 

"I don't think so," she chokes out and turns to face him. "Remember we're playing by my rules. Shorts off," she instructs as she helps with the button. She lets him push them down his slim, tight body as she runs her hands up his chest. 

"Let me at least kiss you," Mateo begs.

"One kiss. Better make it good," she replies as he swoops into her and pounces onto her mouth in a frenzy of intertwined tongues, lips, and moans. After the longest kiss of her life, they release in a fog of dizzy emotions. 

"Um, yeah, OK," Katie mumbles. "Those incredibly suggestive underwear and then, you know, the bed. Edge of the bed." 

"Sure you're still fit to be leader? If my tongue feels that good on your lips, just think how great you'd feel if..." 

"No. Me. I'm in charge," Katie interrupts. "Edge of the bed." As Mateo relaxes on the bed, Katie sinks to her knees on the floor between his legs. She runs her hands up his thighs and breathes on his groin. Mateo leans back on his elbows so he can watch her. He'll watch her until the sensation makes him believe in paradise and his eyes close in reverence. 

Katie takes the base of his cock with one hand and fondles his balls with the other hand. She's careful not to press too hard but instead thinks about using her fingers to tickle them. Her thumb continues to stroke the base of his shaft and she lets one finger move from his testicles to that soft area behind them that she hopes will bring an immediate moan. He doesn't disappoint. As much as she wants to be a natural flirt, she knows this particular job is one that still requires her to think about every motion, every action she makes. She tries to incorporate the new moves she learned from the _Cosmo_ article she read before her haircut. Thank goodness for beauty salons because she'd never read that in _The Economist_. 

"Christ, babe," he groans. "Please." She inches closer to him and puts two fingers in her mouth before she licks his length. She circles the tip and tastes the saltiness of him. She slides her wet fingers back to his taint and pops his shaft in her mouth. With her free hand, she teases the base as her tongue glides over him. When he moans again, she can't resist moaning herself and, with the vibration, he collapses from his elbows to flat on his back. His dilated pupils disappear behind his eyelids. 

She can feel him relax and tense at the same time, and she knows when the relaxation part escapes, he'll be close to finishing. She increases her rhythm and his hand goes to the top of her head. "Fuck. Kate." He's silent for only a moment. "I. Phrsh. Kt. Fuck." She tastes his release and slows her movements knowing how sensitive his body is at the moment. She doesn't particularly like swallowing, but it seems rude not to. She listens to him breathe. In and out. In and out. Then slower until he opens his eyes and his hand goes from her hair to his forehead.

Katie stands up from her position on the floor and walks into the bathroom. She closes the door behind her and re-brushes her teeth. As she washes her hands, she takes a look in the mirror, unimpressed by what she sees. The haircut she imagined would make her look like Emma Stone makes her feel more like Sharon Osbourne. She focuses on her blotchy skin and the faintest of lines below her eyes. Her eyelashes aren't long enough and her haircut accentuates the fact that her earlobes are uneven. It's moments like these when she wonders why Mateo is so devoted to her. She turns the light off and heads back to the bed. 

Mateo is still sprawled on top of the covers taking up 3/4 of the bed. She stares at him before saying, "Sweetie, can you move to the side? I want to crawl in." 

"I don't think I can. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to move again." 

"Then just roll a little. I'm getting cold. And I need some sleep." 

Mateo scoots to one side of the bed, and Katie lifts up the covers and slips between the sheets. Mat lounges next to her, his frame naked next to her covered body. "Is that just for apologizing? If so, I think that might be more persuasive than penance, just in case some religion needs new directions." 

Katie rolls over to look at his face. "Thanks again for shaving. I really hated that shit on your face. Why cover up your beauty?" She takes her finger and runs it over the side of his face, following the path of his jawbone to his ear. Mateo reaches up and twists his hand with hers and kisses her fingers. 

"Think I need a haircut?"

"I like it. It's making you look all Bollywood. Sexy, very sexy." 

"Bollywood? What the fuck do you know about Bollywood?" Mateo says with a snort.

"I know if we get a hall pass, I choose Dev Patel," Katie admits with a shy smile.

"Dev Patel is British and Hollywood, not Bollywood. You think all Indian actors are from Bollywood? Typical white chick," says Mateo with mock offense.

"OK. Sorry. It makes you look all Hollywood." 

"I think you may have a type."

"And you?" Katie asks.

"What?"

"Who's your hall pass?"

"Is this a trick question? Like are you going to get all pissed when I say someone's name? Am I just supposed to say there could be no one but you?"

"Not a trick."

"Ruth Negga," Mateo says without hesitation.

Katie pauses. She inches closer to Mateo and says, "Have you seen me? I have red hair and blue eyes and your ultimate lay is Ruth Negga. Sweetie, you are with the wrong woman." 

"Like fuck I am," Mateo counters and reaches over to kiss Katie on the lips. "You're my ultimate lay. And my future. My family. My hopes. My home." 

"I don't know how someone with the foulest mouth says such beautiful things." 

Katie sinks back onto her pillows and closes her eyes. She wonders how much they still have to learn as a couple and if her parents know all there is to know about each other. She contemplates if she will ever understand all of Mateo even though he's as honest and open as any person she's ever met. She feels herself relax and notes the metronome click of the ceiling fan. 

"You sleeping in those pajamas tonight?" asks Mateo.

"Yeah," Katie responds quietly coming out of her near-sleep fog. As much as she loves that sweet spot just before drifting off to sleep, she loves the sound of Mateo's voice floating through her bedroom even more. He's changed since she met him. He used to wind down after a game by watching late night TV and making lists before he would slink into bed. These days he's more likely to find his relaxation snuggled close to her. 

"Why?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah." 

"I prefer to sleep in pajamas."

"Really? Cool. Then I can sleep in my underwear. I hate my junk flopping around all night." 

"I must say, I love those boxer briefs with the light house on them." 

"Does the picture make you think of my big, hard cock guiding you home?"

"That's _exactly_ what I think about," she admits. They both laugh and Katie sighs. "God, I love it when you laugh. You are so fucking handsome when you smile. I don't know why you don't do it more often." 

"You're stuck with an uptight, serious motherfucker, babe. But I might be willing to go to Clown College if it would make you love me more." 

Katie rolls towards him again, settling her hands under her pillow. "Tell me something, Mats."

"Tell you what, Kates." 

"Tell me a secret." 

"I'm not good at keeping secrets."

"Tell me something special. Something no one else knows." 

"Well, everyone in the world can see how much I love you, so that's not going to work," he says as he rolls to his side so they're facing each other. He kisses her forehead before speaking again. "OK. Here's what I've got. You want to know my absolute goal? The pinnacle of what I hope will prove that I haven't wasted this life."

"I do," Katie whispers. 

"But you can't tell anyone," he whispers back. "Just you and me. We share this. Just us." 

"I'd really like that," she confesses as he strokes her hair with his hand. 

"If I have one goal in life, and this doesn't count you and our future life together."

"I understand." 

"I want to win the Nobel Prize for economics." 

"Of course you do," Katie says laughing. "I can't imagine you'd shoot for anything less." 

"I'm crazy, right?"

"No. Well, maybe. But if you are, I really like it." 

"Now, you tell me something." 

"There are times when I wonder if I made the right decision about joining the navy," Katie confesses, the smile leaving her face. 

"Don't you still like being a pilot?"

"I do, but sometimes I think I have to justify too many things, too many of my actions." 

"I get that. You're like this pacifist whose job is to kill people." 

"Please don't say it like that." 

"You're there so you can keep all those other stupid motherfuckers from messing up. Someone's got to have their backs. Keep an eye out for them. And to show them how it's really done. Put them in their places when the woman on the team does it better than any of them." He kisses her and then stands up and finds his underwear on the floor. He pulls them on and then slips under the covers next to Katie. "If I have the car tomorrow, what do you want to do in the morning?" 

"I already set it up with Jess. She'll give me a ride in the morning."

"Cool," Mateo hesitates. "Babe, are you OK? You seem kind of down or off or something." 

"I'm sorry. I really fucking hate it when I use it as an excuse. I'll get it together." 

"Use what as an excuse?" 

"Hormones. PMS. I'm getting my period. Sorry." 

"If this is you moody, then I'm pretty sure I can handle that. You managed to get me to negotiate a peace treaty with ma, gave me a righteous blow job, convinced me to tell you my secrets, and organized tomorrow's schedule." Mateo moves closer to Katie and puts his hand under her shirt. 

"None of that is too impressive."

"On most days, all I want to do is tell everyone to go fuck themselves," Mateo admits. 

"But you don't. There's a difference between thinking it and saying it. Everyone thinks it."

"Christ, I didn't know you thought it. I figured even all your ideas were nice," Mateo admits. "By the way, how'd we manage to avoid this PMS talk before now?"

"You're on the road a lot. A lot," she says and moves his roaming hand away from her breast.

"Right. Of course," he says and puts his hand flat on her stomach. "You know you're still sexy as fuck, right."

"Mat, come on. It's nice you say things like that, but you don't have to do that anymore. You've already won me over. I know I'm not sexy and I'm not beautiful. I'm smart."

"Yeah, you are smart. That's one of the reasons you're so fucking sexy. But you're beautiful, too. God, you're so fucking gorgeous," he says as he gazes into her blue eyes.

"I'm not. I'm bloated and I'm trying not to be annoyed and I've had a dull headache for two days." 

"Is there anything more domestic than this conversation?" 

"What does that mean?"

"Well, it's not like a man usually goes out looking for some strange with a chick on her period. This conversation only happens when two people are sharing the intimate details of their lives." 

"Trust me. You do not want the intimate details of the next few days of my life."

"I hope you know I don't care. I still want to have sex with you. And I may not be up on the developments of all the latest news in women's health, so correct me if I'm wrong," Mateo says and smiles at her before kissing her neck. "But if we're going to have kids, then I believe your eggs are one of the most necessary ingredients for that recipe."

"Let's hope they're still in working order by the time the military is done with me."

"I want kids, Kate. Not just one. Kids. It's not fair that I don't have anyone to relive memories of my parents with."

"Definitely. More than one. Plural."

"God, think how smart they'll be. And you'll teach them how to be good and kind. And I'll teach them, I don't know, something. I'm sure I've got some good trait I can pass along."

"Honest. You'll teach them to be honest. We could only hope to have children who are kind, honest, and smart. That seems like a jackpot. We're being too greedy."

"No matter what, they'll be loved."

"Mat, are we going too fast with all this?"

"Yeah, for sure. But I can't help it. I know. I know I want you. Forever. You're the one for me." 

"Forever is a long time. What if you want to trade me in for a younger model?" Katie asks as a joke but knows it's a thought that permeates her mind. 

"You mean like a super model? No judgment, but I don't think they could challenge me intellectually."

"Not like a super model, you goof. Like a new and improved model."

"You're the one who'll be the first to want an upgrade. Hell, I still don't know why you'd even consider settling for me. You could do way better."

"Women are always compromising. It's our fate in life," she says as she takes his hand into hers. 

Mateo confesses, "I'm sorry I won't write you poems or sing you love songs. I'm sorry I'll always pick out a sub-par Christmas gift. I'm sorry I'll never think about buying you flowers. But I promise I will love you. And I'll tell you I love you. And I'll work hard to be a better guy. A guy you can be proud of." 

"I can buy my own flowers, and poems are overrated."

"I don't know. Some of the good ones were written centuries ago. They outlast people."

"If we love right, we can pass that joy down to future generations. That's a pretty spectacular thought. Just as good as a silly poem," Katie says as she leans up to kiss him and he lets his hand wander across her flesh. "I checked your Arizona schedule. Baseball will be over the middle of November. Want to come home with me for Thanksgiving?" 

"Wow. You're actually going to take me out in public and let me meet your family. What will you tell them?"

"Here's the guy who was supposed to be a one-night stand. But he kept texting me and begged to move in with me until I relented to have his children." 

"First, we never discussed that it was a one-night stand. Second, I only texted you twice. Third, I didn't beg, I persuaded. But I'll give you the part about wanting to move in, but that was just practical, really. I needed a place to stay and you had an extra side of your bed available. What will your family think about me?"

"Not sure. I've never taken a guy home before."

"Really?"

"I mean. They've met other guys I've been with, but I've never invited any of them to our house. Not for the holidays. That's for family."

"Fuck, Kate. Now there's pressure. Like I've got to impress them."

"My parents will love you because you love me. My brothers will give you a hard time."

"Will I have to sleep on the couch?"

"No, they'll be fine. Pretty sure that when my mom took me to the doctor to get my first birth control pills, they didn't have any illusion I wanted them to clear up acne. But just because we'll be allowed to sleep in the same bed together does not mean we're having loud sex in my parents' house." 

"No loud sex. Got it. So, as long as we can still have quiet sex, then I'll accept your invitation." 

"I do have to warn you about something, though."

"I'm ready."

"One of my sisters-in-law, Kees's wife, is a vegetarian, and she insists on serving tofu turkey." 

"Fuck no. I am not eating that shit. If you're going to go vegetarian, at least serve Indian food. I mean, if I'm there, it's just kind of racist not to." 

"I'll tell her you said that. Maybe that's the way we can get her to stop insisting on that crime against humanity every year." 

"God, I love you, Katrijn." 

"I love you too, Mateo. Are you finally going to leave me alone so I can get some sleep?"

"I can't imagine I'll ever leave you alone again." 

**********

As Veronica knocks on the door, she feels the lack of resistance to her touch. She pushes open the door and then leans back so it closes completely behind her. "Mat?" she calls into the quiet apartment. 

Mateo comes around the corner, his arms full of clothes. "Hey, ma. Just finishing laundry," he says as he bounds into the bedroom and dumps the warm pile onto the bed to fold later. He finds his way back into the main room where Veronica is sitting on the arm of the couch. "Wasn't sure how hungry you'd be, so I thought I'd wait to cook until you got here. Eggs?"

"Are we eating here? I can cook. Or help with your laundry."

"Nah, I've got it. Got 'em both. Eggs?"

"Sure," she agrees awkwardly. "What can I do to help?" 

"Nothing. I know where things are in the kitchen so it's easier for me to do it." 

"Thanks for inviting me over. I appreciate the gesture." 

Mateo grabs six eggs from the carton and cracks them into a bowl. He adds the shredded cheese, salt, pepper, and milk he's organized onto the countertop. Veronica watches him stir the mixture with a fork more forcefully than she thinks is necessary. He pours the liquid into the heating pan and grabs two blue and white plates from the cupboard. "Toast?"

"No thanks. And I brought my own coffee," she says as she points to the green and white cup sitting near her purse. She walks over and picks it up and settles herself on a stool at the kitchen counter. "I didn't bring you any because I wasn't sure what you're drinking with your stomach issues."

"That's cool." 

"Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm, uh, fine," Mateo hesitates and turns off the heat on the stovetop. He divides the eggs, giving himself most of them and hands Veronica a plate, fork, and napkin. He sits down on the stool at the far end, leaving a seat between them.

"Congratulations on the Arizona thing. I should have said that as soon as I walked in."

"Thanks. Yeah, it's pretty rad. It's only, like, 6 weeks, but I think I'll learn a lot," Mateo says in between mouthfuls of food. 

"I'm sure you will. That's a great way to look at it. Just go and learn." 

"Yeah," Mateo says not knowing what else to add. Instead he eats in silence. The sounds of their forks on the plates disrupting the clicks from the refrigerator. 

"That was good, Mat. Thanks for making that. Can I help with the dishes?"

"I'll get them after you leave."

Veronica swallows. "Would you like me to leave?"

"Probably not yet. We need to get through this. Figure some shit out before you go."

"That would be helpful."

"So, I'm sorry I was disrespectful to you. I shouldn't have challenged your decision. It's not up to me what you do and who you're with. You've always put me first, and I'm sorry I seem ungrateful. I don't want us to be angry with each other and I don't want us to fight." 

"Thank you for saying that. And I'm sorry I kept you in the dark longer than I should have."

"I'm not sure how to get beyond this. I love you. I respect you, but I don't want that guy in my life. So, I guess I'd just prefer that he not come to my games or be at the house when I'm there." 

"If you think that's the only option, I can compromise with that. I'm probably the best person in the world at compartmentalizing, so I can keep things separate if that's what you want. It's not what I want, though, Mat. It can makes things awkward and difficult, and we're used to easy together." 

"Yeah, we are. I assumed too much. Thought it would always be easy with us."

"You've made too many judgments about Logan without knowing him. How would you feel if someone did that to you?"

"I don't give a fuck what some asshole thinks about me."

"That's true. You really don't." 

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Mateo responds.

"No, just unusual. Most people do care a little about what someone thinks." 

"I care what Katie thinks and what you think and what the coaches think. But I don't give a fuck what _he_ thinks." 

"What _he_ thinks is that he wants me to be happy. And he doesn't see me happy when I'm fighting with you." 

"We just agreed we wouldn't fight anymore," Mateo sighs, frustrated at the tone of the conversation. He scratches his scalp trying to calm himself. 

"I've known Logan a long time. There were 4 of us who used to be best friends. Then life, and, well, death, got in the way and we tried to figure out how we could go from 4 to 2, and sometimes, lots of times, it wasn't great. But there were also lots of times when it was better than great." 

"Just because you've known someone a long time doesn't mean they need to be in your life. Ringo and I went to school together from elementary through Stanford, but it doesn't mean we're going to hang out when I get back to Palo Alto." 

"You didn't love Ringo. I loved Logan. That's the difference." 

"So, I'm supposed to give him a pass just because you loved him. People love and make excuses for assholes all the time. That doesn't mean I'm going to hang out with them." 

"I'd like you to give him another chance. Spend a little more time with him before you make your final decision." 

"I don't see that happening."

"You're not the one who needs to forgive about this. I am. I was. And I did."

"You know who doesn't have to ask for forgiveness? People who don't bring date rape drugs to a party." 

"Stop being so high and mighty about this. What he did was wrong. He knows that. I know that. You know that. Now even Katie knows that. And you've made things awkward for them at work."

" _I_ made it awkward? This is not my fucking fault. I told you to have that conversation with just the two of us, but you insisted on bringing him here. And if it were up to me, I'd tell Katie to run as far away from him as possible, but I'm not going to tell her what to do."

"But you feel fine telling me what to do." 

"What is the point of this conversation anymore? I thought we could get together and work through some of this, but we're not going to budge from either direction. I'm tired of talking about this. I have shit to do before I have to head out. Maybe it's just better to agree to our earlier compromise and get on with our new normal." 

"You need to go back to therapy, Mat." 

Mateo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Oh, I need therapy. Great. That's what you've gotten out of everything I've said? Sure. OK. I'll make an appointment. I'm not going to disrespect you, but I think you're misguided in your advice." 

Veronica takes a deep breath before she tackles her next point. She's disappointed in their reconciliation thus far and she worries where they are headed. "Mat, when you were in the car last night, you called me Veronica. You haven't done that in years. It's always ma these days, isn't it?"

"Usually, I guess." 

"I don't want us to be like the way my dad and I have evolved. He's been disappointed in my choices, and I don't want to feel like you think of me in the same way. It's _really_ important to me that we don't become like that." 

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty about the shit between you and your dad? Honestly, do you think it's my fault your relationships are fucked? Tell me. Be honest."

"Not really."

"But I've contributed?"

"Maybe."

"If I've done that, then why the fuck would you even want me in your life? You're under no obligation to stay or to be part of any of this," he says as he rotates his hands around him. "We should have stopped this conversation 5 minutes ago because now I'm pissed. Really fucking pissed." 

"Let's just take a minute. Both cool down. I know you're ready for me to leave, but I'm not going to walk away like this." 

Mateo stands up and moves to the other side of the counter. He replaces the salt and pepper back on the stove and carries the cheese and milk to the refrigerator. He rinses plates and loads the dishwasher before walking into the bedroom to fold laundry. Veronica follows him in. "If you want to talk again, we should do it in the living room, not the bedroom. Katie's personal stuff is in here," Mateo explains.

"Right. Sorry," she acknowledges as she turns and walks to the couch. 

Mateo finishes his work on the bed and walks into the living room taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. He hears his phone chime and remembers he left it in the kitchen. He strides across the room and picks it up tapping in his code hoping beyond hope it's a notification of a gas leak in the area so he has an excuse to evacuate from the building. It's not, but a serenity drifts over him as he sees Katie's name appear.

_How's it going?_

_Not great._

_Be kind because you love her and she loves you._

_Trying._

_Your life is better with her in it. Do what's necessary to fix the problem. Give her what she needs, not what you want._

Mateo puts the phone in his pocket and accepts his girlfriend's advice, as he so often does. He grabs a bottle of water on his way to the couch and plops down on it taking up two cushions. "OK. You win. I'm done fighting and over this conversation. Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it." 

"I'd just like you to try to get to know him a little better. See that he cares for me. See that he's not that teenager anymore." 

"Fine." 

"We can set up a time to get together? The three or four of us?"

"Yep." 

"Just like that?"

"Yep." 

"I appreciate you making this effort."

"OK," he says as he goes over his afternoon work-out routine in his mind. He thinks about the shopping list he needs to start and where to stop to get gas in the car. 

"How are things with you and Katie?"

"Good." 

"She still need a ride to the game tonight?"

"Yeah." 

"You're using her car?"

"Right." 

"You could keep the Honda. Technically, it's yours. That might be easier for you both." 

"We'll manage." 

"Do you want me to leave now, Mat?"

"I do." 

"OK," she says standing up. "Thanks for inviting me over and for talking and for agreeing to meet again." As she walks past him on the way to the door, she pats his head. "Love you, kid." 

"You too," he concedes as he stands and watches her gather her purse. He holds the door open for her and closes it as she crosses the threshold. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he says to the empty apartment, looking for where he left his Tums. 

********** 

It happens fast. Too fast to realize what's happening. The pitch comes in. It's an inside fastball. The 93-mile-per-hour ball whizzes into the batter's shoulder. There is a slight hesitation as the catcher, pitcher, and batter size up the situation trying to read the next moves. The batter doesn't bother to drop his bat and instead of jogging to first base, he steps towards the mound. Mateo feels the tension and runs to catch up, positioning himself between the batter and the pitcher. He spreads his arms in protection of his teammate, his brother in dirt. 

The batter swings, and Mateo turns his head to warn his pitcher off the field. Over and over, he's been told it's his job to lead and to protect. Lead the team. Protect the ball. But at this moment, it's more than the ball that needs protection. The bat comes around. The immediate pain is surprising and excruciating. He lifts his left hand, the gloved hand, towards the bat and deflects the weapon away from a second blow. The first baseman is charging towards them, and Mat sees his hulking body jump on the back of the batter. Mateo witnesses players flock on top of each other, but he turns and walks to third base. 

He drops to his knees, a position that comes so naturally to him he doesn't think about the action. His mind is blank, a sensation he's rarely experienced. There's no stadium sound, no voices from the field, no music blaring through the speakers. The only sound is pain. The only vision is nausea. The only smell is confusion. And the only feeling is numbness. He bends at the waist with his head touching the ground. There's a figure around him, some kind of presence, but all he can imagine is that it might be his dad. He rolls to his side and sees the man kneeling next to him. He's seen him before, but he can't remember where. It isn't his dad, but he should know his name. He's sure if he closes his eyes, he'll remember his name. Remember where he is. Remember why he's lying in dirt. 

"Hey," the voice above him drifts. "Mat, I want you to open your eyes. Don't go to sleep. Don't close your eyes again. Mateo, open your eyes." 

He wants to ask what eyes are and how he's supposed to open something he's never had, never even heard of. But he can't do that. He can't ask the question because there is no way to construct words. No way to change a half thought to a verbal expression. The man puts his arm around Mateo. He can feel that, but he doesn't know what the weight means. The space around him darkens and he hears more voices. "Mat, man, you gotta talk to me. I still owe you 20 bucks. Remember? You loaned me enough to get a pizza last night. Come on, man. Tell me you need it back. Look at me, Mat." 

Mateo opens his eyes and finds the face associated with the voice. He's seen him before, too. Why are all the people he's known in his life sitting next to him in the dirt? 

"Son, the medics are on the way to the field. Keep your eyes open while we wait. Can you hear me? Can you talk to me? Tell me how you feel, Mat," Jack rattles to Mateo while running his fingers over the small crack in Mateo's helmet. 

Katie. Where's Katie? Why is that important? Who is Katie? "Katie," he whispers. 

"It's cool, man. She's waiting for you to get up. You gonna show her you're OK? Gonna talk to me for awhile?" Mateo turns his head and sees another person he's met before or maybe it's the same person. He can't tell. 

"Motherfucker," Mateo says and bends over again, the nausea returning. The last thing he wants to do is to vomit into his mask. He can't remember why he didn't flick it off when he stood up. That's what he does. His reflexes kick in and he knocks it off when play is dead. It should be off. His mask and helmet should be on the ground. 

"Yeah, there you go. No one swears better than you, Mat. Come on. Let's hear it, man. Tell that asshole what he did to you." 

"Goddamnmotherfuckingfucker," he whispers to the dirt and closes his eyes. He shakes his glove off and moves both hands towards his head, but he can't seem to find where the pain originates.

"No way, man. You keep those eyes open. No sleeping on the job," the voice floats above him. "What's the best college in the country?" 

Stanford. Stanford. "Stanford," he finally stammers. 

"Fucking right, it is," says the outfielder, Mat's closest friend on the team. "And who's the best center fielder in the league?"

"Who?" he questions and he hears laughter from his teammates, from the guys who've formed a protective circle around him.

"You're gonna be OK, dude. I'd be worried if you thought it was me," laughs the young man. 

"Take my fucking mask off," he instructs. "My goddamn head is going to explode. Take it off." 

"Yeah, yeah. We will, Mat. The ambulance is here, and they'll let us know if we can take it off. Hold on." 

He can feel arms guiding him, and they finally let him lie down. Finally, they'll let him sleep. He closes his eyes happy his helmet and mask are finally off. "Mat," says the deep voice. "Katie's going to meet you at the hospital. Look at me, Mat." Mateo opens his eyes. "Katie's going to meet you at the hospital. What did I just say?"

"Katie." 

"Right. Katie's going to meet you at the hospital. I'll be there soon, too, to check on you. Keep your eyes open, Mat. All the way until you get there. No sleeping." 

"My head hurts." 

"I bet it does, son," the voice says again. "Keep your eyes open, Mat." 

**********

"I'm not sure if you're going to find this to be good news or bad news, but they're kicking you out. You're forced to sleep with me again tonight. Think you can handle that?" Katie asks as she tilts her head to match the angle of Mateo's head resting on the hospital pillow. 

"Mm," he responds with no emotion in his voice. "I'm tired." 

"I know you are. We'll get you home and go right to bed. You're just going to have to rest. Not a lot more they can do for a concussion." 

"Who has a concussion?"

"You do, babe," Katie says as she looks at the mess of clothes and gear scattered around the small emergency room stall. "Let me figure out how to get all this shit out of the room, and then we'll get you to the car. OK?"

"Why do I have a concussion?"

"You were hit with a bat." 

"When?"

"During the game. Just relax, Mat."

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. You're the only one who's hurt," she reminds him for what seems like the tenth time since they arrived at the hospital. 

She piles his shin guards, cup, chest protector, and stained uniform next to his cleats and looks around for a box or bag. When she finds neither she walks towards the nurses station hoping to find help. Instead, she sees Mat's mentor. "Jack," she greets as she walks towards his uncomfortable chair. 

"How's he doing?" he asks as he stands and reaches out to hug her. Katie can smell his aftershave and shampoo. His jeans, sneakers, and striped t-shirt make him look like an average dad, not a professional baseball coach. They back away from each other and Katie realizes how much tension left her in the embrace. 

"Out of it, that's for sure, but they're sending him home. They say he needs to rest his brain. I wonder if he's ever done that," she laughs. "Could you help me with the gear?"

"Yeah, of course," he says as he follows her back to the tiny room. He walks to the side of the bed and places his hand on the patient's shoulder. The young man has never looked so innocent to the coach. His body is clothed only in his white compression shorts and shirt, and he's tucked into the hospital covers. "Mat, how you doing?"

Mateo opens his eyes and smiles. "Coach. I'm good. All fine. I'll be OK for the next game." 

Jack laughs and pats his player's arm. "Not the next one, Mat. You need to rest up for a few days. Take some time off."

He walks back to the doorway where Katie is standing. "Can I just give you this stuff to take back to the field?" Katie asks.

"We'll put it in my car. What's the plan, Kate?" Jack asks knowing Katie and Mateo well enough to understand the difficulty of juggling two unusual work schedules. 

"We're going home. They say to let him rest but wake him up every couple of hours to make sure he's fine," Katie says as she looks down at Mateo's gear and wonders how long it's been since some of it has been cleaned and sanitized. She knows the team staff wash the uniforms daily, but she's sure it is the chest protector that she can smell from where she is standing. 

"Are you working tomorrow?" Jack inquires.

"I really should. I'm scheduled." 

"If I'm there at 8:00, can you still make it to work or do you need me there earlier?"

"Are you sure you want to do that?" 

"Yeah, I'll cover from 8 to 12, and then some of the resting pitchers are going to come over in shifts in the afternoon. They'll cover until you get home." 

"I can't believe you've got this planned already." 

"It's his team. They stand up for him." 

"I know. Thanks, Jack. Really. Thanks so much," she says as she takes out her phone and texts him her address. "Just pass that on to any of the guys who might need it tomorrow." 

Jack scoops up the baseball equipment into his arms and heads out. He doesn't flinch at the smell or the weight of the items. "I'll meet you at your car. I've got Mat's bag from the locker room." 

**********

"Babe, I'm starving," Mateo complains as Katie walks out of the bathroom, her hair wet and her skin cool. The purple towel around her body feels warm under the fan. She pulls clothes from the dresser, covers herself in orange shorts and a Pepperdine t-shirt, and returns the towel back to the bathroom. She wants nothing more than to drop into bed and nap for a few hours before sleeping through the night for eight hours. She's proud of herself for her outstanding performance at work, especially after a night with so little sleep.

"OK. I'll call for something. What sounds good?" she asks. The thought of making dinner is more than she can endure. 

"Lasagna," he says as he reaches out and takes her hand. He tries to pull her closer, but she resists. 

"Mat, honey, you need a shower. Think you can handle that? You still stink from the game." 

"Probably, but if you hear a thud, that means I couldn't handle it." 

"I'm stripping these sheets while you're in there, and I'll call for food." She sees Mateo swing his legs to the side of the bed and wince as he brings his head upright. 

"Fuck," he grumbles and holds the sides of his head as if locking the motion will replace the pain. "Where's the Tylenol?"

"Can't have any yet. Juan said you took some at 3:00." 

Mateo shuffles to the bathroom while holding his head. She hears the door close as she pulls the comforter and blanket off the bed. She yanks the sheets and pillowcases off, leaving the naked pillows on a pile on the bed. She fills her arms with the laundry and leaves the room. 

Katie hears a knock on the door and sighs. "Who the fuck is this?" she asks the laundry. She opens the door and sees Veronica standing on the landing. "Oh, shit. I forgot to call you. It's my fault," Katie confesses. 

Veronica looks at Katie's darkened eyes, wet hair, and dirty sheets filling her arms. She looks tired and tested, but Veronica feels no sympathy. "I've been texting Mat all day. He hasn't gotten back to me. Do you need a ride to the game tonight?" Katie pulls the door behind her and steps outside the apartment. "Someone in there with you, Kate?" Veronica pries. 

"Yeah, Mateo." 

"Shouldn't he be at the game?" 

"It's my fault. I should have called. I'm sorry. Mat got hurt last night. He's not playing tonight. I'm really sorry. It's just been crazy. I took Mat's phone from him because he isn't supposed to be stimulated. Don't be mad at Mat. It's my fault." 

"What's wrong with him?" 

"He has a concussion. He needs to rest," Katie soothes. 

"Are you going to let me in to see him?" Veronica demands.

"Of course. He's in the shower. I'll tell him you're here," Katie says as she kicks the door open with the side of her foot. "Hold on," she says as she drops the laundry on the chair and walks back into the bedroom. When she returns, she closes the bedroom door. 

"Everything OK?" Veronica asks. 

"Yeah, he'll be out soon. Let me just," she points at the sheets, and leaves the room. As she stands next to the washing machine watching it fill, she pulls out her phone and calls their favorite Italian restaurant. The sound of the water pouring into the contained space brings her back to her normal state of mind. 

Katie would like to say she's proud of her calm essence, but she doesn't feel like she can take credit for what comes so naturally to her. She has memories of watching her preschool classmates throw tantrums, and her reaction was to wonder why they wasted so much energy when they could be outside running in the grass. She knows the kindness comes from studying her mother, but she believes the calm, the inability to panic in almost any situation, is innate. 

When she has gathered herself and finished her tasks, she makes her way to the living area. Mateo is lying on his side on the couch across from Veronica who's perched in a chair. Mateo seems incapable of being anything other than relaxed. Veronica, on the other hand, taps her fingers on the arm of her chair and her leg is moving in an unusual pattern. Her purse is tucked behind her back. There is silence between the two as Katie stands near the couch. 

"Ma wants to know what happened. I don't remember," Mateo says as Katie moves to the opposite end of the sofa and lifts his feet so she can slip beside him. 

"Long story short. The pitcher hit the batter. The batter got pissed. He headed to the mound with the bat. Mat stepped between them, and he cracked Mat in the head with the bat," Katie jabbers. 

"It wasn't at the plate?" Mat asks. 

"No, Mat," Katie sighs. "It was intentional. He took it out on your head." 

"And has he seen a doctor?" Veronica interrogates. 

"Of course. The ambulance took him to the emergency room." 

"What did they say?"

"He has a concussion. He needs to rest his brain. First 24 hours he needs to be up about every two hours. We're almost there, right, babe?" Katie says as she smiles down the couch at his stubbled face. 

"I could've helped out today," Veronica insists. 

"Jack had it all lined up before we left the hospital. He was here all morning and pitchers came by this afternoon. That way I didn't miss work. Did you talk to coach this morning, Mat?"

"I think so," Mateo says and looks at her, but his eyes don't quite focus. "Babe, I'm so hungry." 

"I know. I called. They'll be here soon," she calms as she runs her fingers up and down his calf. 

"When did this happen?" Veronica asks. 

"Top of the 8th," Katie says. 

"I wish you would have let me know."

"Things were just moving kind of fast. And I didn't want to interrupt you. I know you said you needed to leave early to get back for dinner," she stops herself from continuing her thought. She thinks about the tension she felt when Veronica had told her how she had made a compromise with Logan to spend more time with him. She would leave after five innings and they would dedicate the rest of the evening to each other. Repeating that conversation seems like the wrong way to keep peace in the living room. 

"Dinner wasn't that important. You should have called."

"At first, it seemed like I'd just wait until I knew what was going on, and then I just forgot with all that was going on. I really am sorry." They sit silently and Katie looks down the couch at Mateo. His eyes are closed and she's quite certain he's fallen asleep again. "Can I get you something to drink, Veronica?"

"Do you have any beer?"

"I think so," she says as she scoots off the sofa and makes her way to the refrigerator. She hopes moving her body will release some of her tension. She remembers how many times she's advised Mateo to be kind to Veronica even if it means enduring a few hurt feelings. She reminds herself to do the same. "Is Red OK?" 

"Fine," she says before Katie hands her a bottle. "Thanks. So Jack was with you last night?"

"Yeah, he came to the hospital to check on Mat. He was so helpful. He's a good man. And a great friend and mentor to Mat."

"He's married, you know?"

"I do know that. He's talked about his wife several times," Katie says as she sits on the chair next to Veronica hoping to avoid waking Mateo on the couch. 

"And how well do you know him?"

"I don't know. We go out to dinner sometimes."

"Just the two of you?"

"The three of us. After games. Mat's grown really close to him," she replies, noting that twice tonight Veronica has implied she's being unfaithful to Mateo. She lets the implication slide not wanting to fight with what could essentially be her future mother-in-law.

Katie hears a knock on the door and is relieved knowing it must be the lasagna. She opens the door and greets the delivery man. "Thanks for the quick service, Gino" she says with a smile and hands him some cash before she takes the bags of food. 

"Enjoy, Katie," he replies. "Hope to see you next week." He turns and walks away pocketing Katie's generous $20 tip. 

"Can you stay for dinner? I ordered enough for 10 people. Not that you eat as much as 10 people. That's totally not what I meant." 

"I think there are some who might have argued that at one point in my life," Veronica counters. 

"Maybe that's where Mateo gets it from," Katie replies. She pulls the take-out containers from the bags and lines them up on the kitchen island. She finds matching plates and places them next to three of the stools at the counter. "You see if you can rouse Mateo, and I'll get things organized." 

Veronica rubs her hand through Mat's longer hair. "Matt-y-o," she says in their familiar lingo. "Ask and you shall receive. Katie has dinner ready." She shakes his shoulder and Mateo opens his eyes. "Chow time, Mat."

"Cool. I could eat," Mateo admits. 

"Didn't those guys feed you at all today?" Katie asks. 

"What guys?" 

"Sometimes I swear you're just messing with me with this memory loss," Katie says and takes a seat after putting utensils around the island. 

"Maybe a little. Is it working? Do you feel sorry for me?" Mateo strides up behind her and wraps his arms around her and squeezes. 

Katie cinches in her body as he grips her tightly. He peppers her cheek with quick kisses. "Mat, sit down," she says as a blush runs up her neck to her hairline. "Veronica doesn't want to watch you grope me."

Mat plops down into the middle stool, surrounded by his two favorite women. "Shit, there's a lot of food here. You expecting the full team to show up later?" 

"You'll need leftovers for tomorrow while I'm at work." 

"I'll be here tomorrow. All day," Veronica states, no further discussion expected on the subject. 

"Oh, sure. If there's lasagna in the house, then you're happy to help," Mateo replies with a smirk. "Thanks for the food, Kates." 

"No problem. It was a lot of work, but I ordered it all by myself," Katie says as she winks at him and rubs a hand across his back. He loads his plate with lasagna and manicotti and passes both containers to Veronica, knowing they are her favorites, too. Katie reaches for the mushroom ravioli, but she can't tempt Mateo with the same. "Remind me to give you Mat's key, Veronica. That way you can let yourself in no matter what time you arrive or in case Mat's still sleeping." 

"You sure you don't mind me having a key?" Veronica asks Katie, not able to see Katie's face as Mateo shovels food into his mouth between them. 

"I have nothing to hide, Veronica," Katie responds thinking about the typical Dutch answer she first heard from her mother when she asked why they were the only family she knew whose living room curtains didn't close.

"Maybe she's afraid she'll walk in on us having sex," Mateo says straight-faced. 

"Jesus, Mat," Katie says turning red again. "Please don't be quite so upfront when you're talking to my parents."

"What? You think ma doesn't know we're having sex? Hey, ma, Katie and I are having sex."

"Got it, Mateo," Veronica laughs. 

"Yeah, we share a bedroom and a bed and we have sex. Any problem with that?"

"None. But does that mean your couch is still free if I need somewhere to crash?"

"Check our website. If we're already booked, we can throw a cot in the hallway. That's half price, but it's cash only and you have to go to Starbucks to use the bathroom."

"Tempting. You know how comfortable I am at Starbucks," Veronica says and realizes how she refuses to lose the easy bond she has with her surrogate son. No, not surrogate. Just her son. She will fight to make things right between them. "I'd take you up on that, but I can't do cash under the table. I'd need a receipt to write it off as a business expense." 

"What business is that?"

"Sticking my nose in your business." 

"You're definitely CEO of that venture."

Mat turns back to Katie and asks, "Hey, Kate, did the doctor say anything about us having to wait to have sex?"

"She said a minimum of eight weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse," Katie says trying to keep her face serious, but the smile that edges on her lips gives her away.

"You better be shitting me otherwise I will have to move to the couch." 

"I think she said if you could prove with a note from a parent or guardian that you've shown progress with your brain cognition, they'll make an exception."

"Ma, you still remember how to write using a pen and paper? 'Cause we've got a medical emergency."

"I keep a notebook in my bag for just such a crisis." 

"Always be prepared. Isn't that the private investigator's motto?" 

"You're thinking boy scouts. The PI motto is 'It's not Stalking if You Have a PI License'."

**********

"I wasn't at the game tonight," Veronica says as she plops down on the couch next to Logan, purse and shoes still in place. The house key Logan gave her the night of her first visit to Lemoore sits in the pocket of her shorts next to the one Katie gave her. More than once, she has wondered if she will give Logan a key to her world. 

"Then where've you been all this time? Checking out Lemoore's nightlife?" Logan asks as he flips his book onto the arm of the couch to save his page. His sarcasm and frustration on full display.

"Is there a nightlife in Lemoore? I guess there would have to be since there's no daylife." 

"If you spent tonight alone at Starbucks, I'm going to be offended."

"I was at Katie's having dinner," confesses Veronica. "Turns out that Mat got hurt last night after I left." 

"Is he OK?"

"Concussion, but pretty sure he'll recover." 

"Let's hope it impairs his ability to remember any of the shit of the last few days." 

"I think we'd need a time machine for that."

"You OK?"

"I think so. At first, I was pissed that they didn't let me know. And I probably said a few things I shouldn't have. But then we had dinner, and it was nice and fun and like it used to be with Mateo."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah, but it reminded me that my relationship with Mateo is too important to give up. I don't want to lose him from my life. I want to see where his crazy brain takes him. I want to see if those two can make it. I want to watch him earn his PhD. I want to be there when he teaches his kids how to play baseball." Veronica leans her head back against the cushion, but her gaze remains forward staring at the white wall. She doesn't bend towards Logan.

"Cricket." 

"Yeah, OK, baseball and cricket," she agrees and continues with her thoughts. "I've allowed myself to give up too many things, too many people. I've told myself it's easier that way, but I'm not better off without Mateo. As much as I want to believe that I stay because he needs me, I know I need him too. I won't give him up. Period." 

"Mm," Logan mutters unsure if he wants to listen to anything else she has to say. 

"I don't know what's worse - watching someone I love die in front of me or realizing I've become so unimportant in someone's life that I don't warrant a phone call from a hospital emergency room." 

"It's just a concussion. He wasn't dying." 

"It doesn't matter that he wasn't dying. I wasn't there when it happened and I still wouldn't have known if I hadn't barged in on their lives tonight. And you know why I wasn't there? Because you told me you were tired of already feeling like an afterthought. So I compromised. I gave in because that's what couples are supposed to do. Compromise. Make each other happy. All that bullshit."

"But you're not happy."

"No, I'm not. I'm so tired of having to give up one person to keep someone else in my life."

"So what are you saying, Veronica?" Logan asks knowing, yet not believing, that the knot in his stomach is the recurring sign that Veronica is about to dump him again. He doesn't know if he's angry because she's leaving him or because Dick was right. She would choose and, of course, she would choose the kid. 

"That we have to suck up some of our pride and stubbornness and maybe even jealousy because this is important to me. Somehow we have to figure out how we can all be cool with each other. It can't just be superficial. And as much as I want to find a reason to sabotage Katie, I can't because I actually like her. She's so good for Mateo. Making things right with Mateo is as important to me as you are. I'm asking you to help me. Do you think we can find a way to make this better for all of us?"

"I have never doubted that together we can figure out a solution to any problem," Logan replies not quite believing how many times Veronica just used the word "we." She isn't leaving him. She's staying. Choosing to stay with him. The knot unties.

"And I'm worried about something else."

"About what?" he asks, his voice softening, calm enough now to concentrate on what she's saying without automatically forming a counter-argument in his mind. 

"Do you remember when you tried to convince me that there's no such thing as too much love?"

"Yeah." 

"Well, I'm afraid if we aren't careful, we're not going to worry about having too much love. We're going to wind up with no love at all. And that would suck. Really suck."

"It would."

"We've got to figure out a way so we aren't left alone. Alone without love." Veronica looks at her folded hands and tells herself she can do this. She can say to Logan what comes so naturally for her to say to Mac and Mateo. The words that many would believe she says from rote memory, but she knows she thinks about their meaning every time she speaks them. "Because I love you, Logan. I've loved you for years, and I want to be able to love you for many years to come. But I'm not willing to sacrifice anything again." 

Logan hears the words as they spill from Veronica, but he never thought it would be this quick or this easy. Nothing is this easy with them. What is he thinking? It hasn't been easy. Twenty seconds ago, he was convinced she was on the verge of her latest escape from him. He would have to readjust his mindset, come to terms with Veronica wanting, choosing to be with him, still loving him. 

Logan takes a deep breath before he begins. "I've fucked up with you so many times that I'm not sure you'll believe me anymore if I say it, but I've loved you since we were kids. Goddamn kids. We aren't kids anymore, Veronica. But I still know there is one truth in my world. Maybe only one. And that truth is I love you. And us loving each other can only be good." 

"It's got to be better than good for us. It's got to be good for everybody," she says as she stands up and repositions herself. Her purse lands on the floor and her shoes slide under the table. Veronica straddles Logan and lowers herself onto his lap, one of her favorite positions in life. She bends close to his face but stops short of meeting his lips. She waits for him to read her mind. 

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to talk to Mateo? I'll tell him anything he wants to know," he concedes inches from her mouth. His hands move to her hips. 

"Sounds like the start of a good solution," Veronica concurs and leans in closer until their lips meet. 

"But," Logan says after they part. 

"No but. This isn't a negotiation," she says as she pulls away. Logan tightens his grip on her. 

"Not a negotiation. I think the word you're looking for is compromise."

"And what is this compromise you want to make?" Veronica asks.

"Mateo doesn't know all the shit you pulled when you were a PI. And I know you like to keep your secrets. So I won't tell him about your, shall we say, reckless decisions. But in return you have to promise not to take so many chances this time around." 

"That doesn't sound like a compromise. That sounds like blackmail."

"The morally ambiguous prefer the term graymail," Logan says smiling. "Mateo's already lost two parents. He shouldn't have to worry about your welfare."

"Nice. Guilt and blackmail," Veronica says and looks down before she continues. "I don't mean to keep so many secrets."

"But you do. It's your go-to mode."

"The less people know, the less they might judge. And there might be fewer problems."

"I'm not convinced there are fewer problems, but I realized years ago that if I'm going to love you, then I have to accept that I'll probably never know all about you. That I have to take what you give. I can't ask for more. Wanting more will only pull you further away." 

"Christ, that makes me sound selfish." 

"Do you keep secrets from Mac?"

"That's different. Mac's my best friend."

"And what am I?"

"You're my addiction. My obsession. The one I can't get enough of," she whispers in his ear as she leans close to him. His hands sink lower as she tilts near him. 

"No one knows better than me that addictions are bad, Veronica, and I don't want to be your vice. I don't want to be the guy you run to when you need to feel good or you need a hit. I assume you've got plenty of those guys in your phone if you need a quick release." 

"So, I'm reckless, selfish, and slutty," she huffs as she leans away from him. Again, she attempts to leave his lap, but he holds her steadfast so they can look at each other.

"That's the takeaway you've got from this conversation?" 

"No, but it's easier to get mad than to deal with something real," she confesses.

"You've mastered being mad at me. It's time to move on to something else." 

"So, no anger and no addiction. What do you think is going to fuel our, uh, passion these days?"

"Remember that little thing you mentioned a few minutes ago? Love. Think that might work?"

"You haven't gone all new agey on me, have you? We aren't going to get naked and share our feelings, are we?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind after the getting naked part, but if that's what gets you going these days, I can adjust." 

"Jackass."

"Is that how the kids are saying sweetheart these days?"

"You're not going soft on me, are you, Echolls? Not going to start with gooey pet names?"

"You're the one who's always been soft, Mars. Can't hide that soft interior no matter how mad you pretend to be at me. Marshmallow, remember?"

"It's that tough outer layer that's kept Mateo on the straight and narrow the last few years."

"Don't you think it's crazy that you expect me to talk to Mateo about my past, but you won't do the same? He's yours, not mine." 

"I'm supposed to guide him. I'm supposed to be the one to set the example. What's he going to think about me if he knows me better?"

"That you're human. A really special, remarkable, sexy, intelligent person. But you are, in fact, human. You've made mistakes. But we were never a mistake, Veronica. He needs to know that. And he needs to know that from you." 

"I told them I'd babysit him and his concussion tomorrow. Maybe I can talk to him without either one of us calling for end times. Let's hope that his concussion will be the advantage I need over him to win an argument." 

"Great. I get you tomorrow night after you've spent the whole day with him. I bet you're going to be a joy. Do I need to come home armed with tequila or ice cream?"

"Both. And a carton of cigarettes and a jumbo pack of condemns. Some combination may get me to calm down."

"I know which one I'm hoping will work," he jokes as he squeezes her hips. "In fact, the very idea of you coming home all pissed off is already making me wish it were tomorrow night."

"That is so fucked up. We are so fucked up. But, you're right. Also kind of hot. Here's hoping you have a terrible day at work, too." 

"Don't go into it thinking it's going to be terrible. You had a good time with him tonight. Just count on that continuing."

"Fuck. I hate thinking about all this. Hate talking about it. This would've been a lot easier if I'd have just taken my clothes off when I walked through the door."

"Just assume that's always the best thing to do when you're here."

"What else should I assume?"

"That we're going to fight. But that doesn't mean it's over. And the same holds true for you and Mat. You can get through this. We can get through this." 

"I'm not looking for a fairytale ending. I just want us all to get along. Be good to each other."

"We know better than to wish for happily ever after." 

"We don't need happily ever if we're trying hard in the here and now," Veronica says as wraps her hands around the back of Logan's head. She thinks about how little the people in her life ask of her - trust, love, loyalty. She worries that she hasn't been able to return what is most important to them and wonders if she's stunted in her capacities. She looks into Logan's eyes and loves the way he stares back at her. It used to scare her to see such dedication in his gaze. Now she sees the ferocity that the simplest of emotions can hold. "I'm trying, Logan. Trying to make it all work. Keep believing in me. Keep pushing me. I need this whole fucking team to work."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for continuing to encourage me to tell the stories of Logan and Veronica and Katie and Mateo. I appreciate the comments and kudos and the time you spend reading and commenting on my writing.


End file.
